


The Devil You Know

by Shachacha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Family, Magic, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 82,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shachacha/pseuds/Shachacha
Summary: Morgana's punishment by Merlin is to be sent to the future where she discovers a three year old Harry being beaten by his relatives. Taking the boy in herself she teaches him the things she thinks are important resorting in a much different Harry arriving at Hogwarts. This Harry will refuse to submit to Dumbledore's heinous plans and will find support in a mildly different group.*Transferred from FF.net





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin (I didn't put it as a crossover because it's got little to do with it, Morgana will be the only one connected and even then it's my take on her) so anything you recognize is not mine! And you will recognize certain things as I will use quotes or sentences straight from the books or show. Can a disclaimer count for the whole story? I'll pretend they do and not put this up again.  
> IMPORTANT A/N: This fic will have mild Ron/Dumbledore bashing (if you think people pointing out Ron's canon attitude, or exploring the manipulative Dumbledore track is bashing). Obviously not all of Ron's attitude will be canon BUT that doesn't mean that I will be bashing him. Unless you see people with bad attitudes as bashing. Instead, it'll be like a pitiful school rivalry like what Hogwarts tends to create. He will have friends, he will have good points, but he won't be besties with Harry. I believe Dumbledore was a good man, but I am currently exploring the manipulative Dumbledore concept for my own interest. If you don't like that either, I really don't know what to say.  
> I also personally like Hermione and I feel I relate to her, I may only be projecting some of my own traits on her in terms of maturity when it comes to wisdom, or bullying because of vocabulary. You may not believe she was bullied, or believe that such a thing is overused. But it's also overly common within out world, especially with people who use a higher vocabulary, because the connotation between words may be misunderstood by peers who really don't know the real definition of a word. At least, that is my experience. Apparently the words apt, overt, and illogical should not be used in a non-university classroom.  
> Yes, I have Morgana and Merlin having gone to/been to Hogwarts. I know this is illogical as the Merlin timeline and Arthurian legends do not correspond with the Hogwarts timeline (as Hogwarts came years after) I'm currently trying to figure it out myself. It is canon because of Rowlings (admitted) mistake, but I did want some kind of foreknowledge about Morgana. I'm figuring out the logic of it, for now it's a plothole. Please excuse that.

 Morgana’s hair was drenched, clinging to her pale face. Her once immaculate hands were coated with dried blood and dirt. Her nails turned an awful brown as her fingers scratched into the mud. ‘I hate you,’ her voice clung desperately to the silence, demanding for the power she once had. 

 ‘I know,’ Merlin’s hand was held out towards her, his fingers were stretched as much as they could, pointing up to the overcast sky. 

 ‘Merlin,’ Arthur stepped up from behind his long time friend, ‘you have to.’ Arthur’s blue eyes were shadowed with hatred for his half-sister. 

 ‘I hate you all,’ Morgana’s voice rang through the battlefield as she slammed her palms into the mud. Her body shook as she lowered her head, she couldn’t bear to see the lifeless bodies of Mordred and Morgause. Her strongholds, her family, her lifelines, they were gone. The scent of death filled her nose with it’s acrid smell sharpening her sense, reminding her exactly where she was. 

 ‘I know,’ Merlin choked back his tears before he looked back at his friends. Was this really what Gaius would want? Was this what was necessary? He could hear Kilgharrah’s booming voice reverberating through his ears, reminding him that they Morgana was pure darkness, she was hatred, she could never love, and as long as she existed the world would never be at peace. 

 ‘Merlin,’ Arthur clapped his gloved hand upon his friends shoulder. ‘Do it.’ 

 ‘I’m sorry,’ Merlin fingers shook as if trying to close, trying to stop him from acting out on what everyone thought was best. ‘Please, forgive me.’ He licked his chapped lips, the strong taste of blood penetrated his senses as he stared into Morgana’s cold steel blue eyes. ‘I still see it,’ the words flowed out of his mouth in effortlessly in the ancient tongue. ‘You could have been so much,’ his voice was dripping with the empathetic regret that was hounding him. He didn’t want to kill her, they had been through so much. 

 ‘I made my decision, I am no longer the girl I was,’ Morgana hissed back. ‘Just kill me!’ Her voice crackled with the anguish that was overwhelming her. 

 ‘Do you ever regret what you did?’ Arthur watched the two converse ignorant to their words, he was gripping his sword prepared to kill Morgana if Merlin couldn’t. His friend had always been far too compassionate, it was almost and could still be the death of them. 

 ‘No,’ Morgana answered Merlin coldly but she was unable to hide her true feelings from the wizard. 

 ‘I understand,’ Merlin whispered in english. ‘Your regret is mine, and mine is yours,’ he nodded before looking at Arthur. ‘I am ready.’ His long time friend smiled, releasing his hold on his swords handle. 

 ‘When you’re ready,’ Arthur squeezed his shoulder before letting go and backing away. 

 ‘Morgana, I hereby convict you of your sins,’ Merlin continued in the ancient tongue. The duo could feel the magic in the air warping, sensing the importance of that moment. ‘You revolted against our duty to serve and protect all that stand upon the earth. Do you plead guilty.’ 

 ‘I do,’ she lifted her chin, attempting to remain dignified in her last moments. She would fall like the queen she was. 

 ‘You deserve death,’ Merlin’s voice dropped with authority as he stepped towards her. 

 ‘I do,’ Morgana nodded, her nose flaring as she breathed in deeply. 

 ‘You deserved peace, love, all that you lost by choosing your path. I, Merlin, hereby do punish Morgana Pendragon, the last High Priestess, and strip her of her magic.’ Morgana gasped her eyes widening as she jerked forwards. She could feel her magic leave her body leaving her feel empty and lost. She could feel it’s presence around her, fluctuating in it’s restraints, contained from the watchers. 

 ‘What is he doing?’ Gwen grasped Arthur’s hand shivering in fear as she watched the strange black mist warp around Morgana, ‘what is that?’ 

 ‘I don’t know,’ Arthur shook his head, his muddy blonde hair hung in his eyes as he watched his half-sister gasping weakly. 

 ‘I ban Morgana from ever returning to the world she came from, she shall never return in death, nor life.’ Merlin clenched his jaw as he swallowed heavily, his adam's apple bobbed as he did. Opening his mouth his tongue moved on its own accord as he condemned his old friend, ‘Morgana will be sent where the fates command, her heart will be bound with the love of another and she shall be given the chance she deserves to regain her loyalty. But not here, never here, she will never see anyone she once knew, and they shall not seek her out. Begone witch, and serve out your judgement’ Merlin sucked in a deep breath as his hand dropped, he stepped back his body shook as he watched Morgana stare at him, her eyes accusing and fearful. 

 ‘What have you done, what have you done!’ She screamed, the sound was haunting and sent shivers through every person who could hear. ‘What have you done! Merlin!’ The black mist, her magic, seemed to thicken into a tangible substance before it collapsed into her. The moment it hit her a terrifying crack resounded through the air and she disappeared, the only sign that the ward of Uther Pendragon was there was the indents in the mud. 

 ‘She’s gone,’ Gwen fell against Arthurs side. ‘She’s gone, she’s gone,’ her voice came out as a whimper so unlike herself. 

 ‘What have I done,’ Merlin collapsed, his knees falling into the mud as he clutched at his back dirty hair. The words had flown out of his mouth by their own accord, he was unable to stop himself from the spell he had conducted, he really had meant to kill her. 

 ‘You did what was necessary, she’s finally dead,’ Arthur stared into the blank space with vacant eyes, unable to feel the victory that should have blossomed in his chest. 

 

 A scream pierced through the Dursley household as Harry pressed himself against the wall shaking as he awaited the next hit. ‘Quiet,  _ boy _ ,’ Vernon Dursely’s voice was thick with the disgust he felt for the mongrel in front of him. 

 ‘Vernon,’ Petunia raised her hand shakily, she hated Lily, she hated the inferiority she felt for her late sister but the guilt still arose every time she watched her husband beat the child. 

‘He’s a freak Petunia! You told me so yourself!’ Vernon’s spittle flew out of his mouth as he stared at Harry with passionate hatred. ‘He doesn’t belong in our household! He doesn’t belong with us! He’s ruining our image!’ Petunia nodded weakly unable to refuse her husband his wants. 

 Moments later a sharp crack erupted in their backyard, ‘It-it must be one of those freaks,’ Petunia hissed as she back away from the door. ‘They know, oh, they know. They’re coming to hurt us,’ she raised her bony hands to her face thanking the heavens that her own son was upstairs in his room, alone and safe. 

 ‘I’ll take those monsters on,’ he stormed to the backdoor and ripped it open. ‘Who’s out there!’ There were a few moments of silence that was only broken by Petunias shriek of fear. 

 ‘It’s a ghost! A ghost!’ She fell against the wall as she watched a woman walk towards the house. The woman was as pale as the full moon that hung above their house, it’s light reflected off her skin giving her an iridescent glow. Her hair had long since dried into tangled dark brown waved, and her black dress had long since lost it’s magnificence. It hung on her fragile frame loosely, torn and full of holes. Her light blue eyes looked like the silver of an unforgiving blade as she looked at the people in front of her. 

 ‘Leave freak! Take your magic with you!’ Vernon clenched his fist at her and jerked forwards as he tried to punch her. His breath caught in his fat throat as a faint thump signalled that the woman had caught his hand, looking as stoic as she had previously. Her head slowly turned to his as she stared him in the eyes. 

 ‘Back down, peasant,’ her commanding voice rang through the room sending both Durselys into their true meek forms. Morgana looked around the room, scouring it for it’s secrets. It’s strange contraptions and designs registered in her mind before she caught sight of the child who was staring at her in awe. Her lip curled in disgust as she took in his bruises that were quickly turning colour. A familiar protective feeling overwhelmed her as she stared into his fearful green eyes. ‘What were you doing to the boy,’ she dropped Vernon’s fist as she stepped towards the boy. 

 ‘We weren’t doing anything,’ Vernon’s voice wavered with his fear, unable to conjure his usual strength. 

 ‘Tell me the truth,’ she watched as Harry whimpered, anticipating her to beat him as well. 

 ‘He’s a freak! We beat him when he gets out of control! That’s it!’ 

 ‘A freak? He is magical?’ She reached out her hand to him then pinched his black locks with her slender fingers. Her lips pursed as silence followed her question. ‘I asked if he was magical.’ 

 ‘Y-yes!’ Petunia managed to squeak out. ‘He is!’ 

 ‘That is all I need to know,’ she delicately brushed his bangs out of his face then stood up. ‘Where are his parents?’ 

 ‘Dead, as they should be! They were freaks!’ Vernon spat, gaining back some of his idiotic courage. 

 ‘You should be dead,’ she whispered, the temptation to destroy him overwhelmed her. The only thing that made her refrain from acting out was that she no longer had her magic. Morgana had heard every word of Merlin’s, and she knew what he meant now that she had seen the boy. The boy had lost his parents, and out of Merlin’s ridiculous need to have everyone feel love he had bound the boys mothers love to her. ‘I hate him,’ she hissed in the ancient tongue as she stood up. 

 ‘What are you going to do to us?’ Petunia whimpered as she slowly stepped towards her husband. 

 ‘I will take the boy,’ Morgana took the boys hand and pulled him up, ‘you will never ask after him. Make up whatever stories you see fit.’ Her eyes closed as she felt the boys magic fluctuating, sensing her presence. She could steal his magic, pull it from his very body the same way Merlin had hers, but she couldn’t. She growled lowly as the mother’s love for the boy echoed through her mind, reminding her or her judgement. 

 ‘Just go.’ Morgana’s eyes froze Vernon on the spot. 

 ‘What is the boys name,’ she pulled the boy to the backdoor, her face not showing the full extent of her anger. It was less about how her heart was bound by another’s love, and more that the boy was of her kind, punished as she was for something they could not control. She could not forgo the boy and leave him to possible death, she had fought for the safety of all witches and wizards and she wouldn’t stop, not with him. 

 ‘H-Harry, Harry Potter,’ Petunia gulped feeling her body go cold at the look of disgust she got from the woman. 

 ‘Harry,’ the word rolled off Morgana’s tongue unpleasantly. Harry was the name of the boy she would be forced to care for, he was the personification of the cell in which she was meant to live out her sentence. Harry was the name of the boy whose life was about to inexplicable changed, much to the joy of the fates watching, her life would no longer play out the way that was planned for him by the magical mortals of the world. 


	2. Chapter 2

'Where could he have gone,' Albus forced a smile at Minerva's question as he sat restlessly in his seat. That was the question on his own mind, he had been in the minds of the Dursleys but for some reason the person who took Harry seemed not to exist, there was no shape or sound that he got from the intruder. It was an impossibility that he could not solve.

'Perhaps we will not know until the time comes.' His answer was as enigmatic as he was, vague enough that Minerva could assume that he actually did know, but he was as perplexed as she was.

'Albus.' Minerva paced the room, unable to sit, 'he's still alive, we need to find him! What if something happens to him? He is our responsibility, and we tossed him to the Dursleys, and look where that got us.'

'He is still alive, his name is in the Hogwarts registry, is that not hope enough? The fates move in mysterious ways, we need to accept their decisions,' Albus' words were like a spoonful of cinnamon in his mouth, drying his mouth, and leaving him short of breath. He had never believed in the fates, he never believed that Old Magic moved as it wished, he had always believed that magic only existed to be controlled. But talk of the fates, one of the only things that remained of the Old Religion, always eased the nerves of his followers, encouraging them that what was out of their hands was being lead by a higher power.

'We need to save him.' Minerva dropped down into the chair across from Dumbledore.

'He is safe where he is now,' Dumbledore's eyes sparked with aggravation, he had to find Harry, but he couldn't let the Order know that he had failed. They had to believe in him, and Harry needed to as well, he needed Harry to follow him, enact the plans he had for the battle against Voldemort. That was the only way that it would end correctly.

'Tell me straight out, Albus. Do you or do you not know where Harry Potter is?' Minerva asked, tired of his evading, she set out her question as straight forward as she could.

'Of course I do Minerva.' Albus spoke the lie smoothly, the fake twinkle in his eyes hid the anger that was rising at the whole situation.

'That was all you had to say,' Minerva stood up then smoothed out her robes before turning, preparing to leave the room.

'He will make it to Hogwarts, we will see Harry enter our halls in eight years.' Albus spoke up, watching as Minerva left the room. Harry was only three now, and he worried about how much he could be changed by an outside force if he stayed there till he was eleven. Things were not going as planned.

* * *

'Mama.' A seven year old Harry looked up from his book to watch Morgana pace the room. 'What are you doing?'

'Harry,' her sharp blue eyes focused in on his curious green ones. 'Do you remember what I told you about our,' she paused as her eyes narrowed, 'situation.'

'Of course, mother,' Harry nodded, his messy hair bobbing with him.

'If you so wish to, we can legally become a family.' Morgana sat down on her arm chair delicately, looking every bit the royalty she used to be.

'How?' He closed the first year level potions book he was reading, Magical Drafts and Potions. His green eyes took on the same cool analytical glaze his surrogate mothers did when she was being serious. Morgana's eyes drifted to the book and a glint of amusement flashed in her eyes, she knew he barely understood the book, but he still struggled to read them so he could look as smart as he could. Though she had to admit that for his age, he had an extremely high vocabulary and level of understanding. Part of her wondered how much of that was from emulation, and how much he actually knew.

'I have no magic, but now that you are of decent...' Her eyebrow rose as she searched for the appropriate word, 'coherency,' Harry smiled at his mothers wording, she always sounded so clinical. 'You can be guided by my instructions for the adoption spell. It is, of course, your decision.' Her heart quivered in baseless anxiety. Over the past four years she had become attached to the boy. She was fearful that he would reject her, that traitorous warmth flowed through her body, reassuring her of Harry's feelings for her. She wished she could ignore it, that influential nudging caused by Lily's (as she came to find Harry's dead mother's name was) connection to Morgana.

'When can we start?' His small hands folded together much like his mothers were in front of him as he tilted his head, staring at her.

'Right now,' her lips quirked into a smirk as she stood. 'Now, what do you know about adoption spells?' She walked towards the table beside Harry, and picked up a bag that clacked with the things in side of it. Morgana would never admit it, but she had been in a flurry getting everything ready while he was at school. At first she had everything set up, then she cleaned it up, then she pulled out some things, then put them back. In the end, she settled for only leaving the main things needed out on the table in a bag.

'There are many different types, some involve the sharing of blood, others do not.' Harry stood up and watched as his mother took some white chalk out of the bag and started drawing ancient runes upon the wooden floor, each encased with circles and symbols he didn't understand.

'What is the difference between the sharing of blood and not?' Harry asked as Morgana placed candles in central parts of the design and then sat in one of the open spaces, Harry quickly followed and sat down opposite her. Right between them was an intricate circle that held a goblet in the middle.

'Sharing blood changes some physical aspects, the other does not.' Morgana said, watching as Harry poked the goblet with his small fingers before looking up at her with wide curious eyes. 'Are we sharing blood?'

'Yes, we are.' She took a plain knife out of her bag and placed it down beside the goblet. 'Now you will say what I have taught you. If you need help, ask for my assistance.'

'Yes, mother,' Harry nodded, and straightened his back so he was completely upright like his mother.

'In the order of blending family,' he started in the ancient tongue, 'we call upon the magic of old to take part,' the lights in the room flickered off as the presence of magic surrounded them. 'We ask for the judgement of fate to take in the state of our hearts and determine our wishes.' Harry held up his two fingers, preparing to snap them. 'I, Harry James Potter, do wish to become apart of the Pendragon family, my matriarch being Morgana Pendragon.' He snapped his fingers, and the candle beside him burst into flames, the old magic acknowledging the truth of his words.

'I, Morgana Pendragon, do accept Harry James Potter into my family, and accept the role of mother.' Morgana's lips threatened to curl into a smile as she felt the old magic flow between the two, warming her soul and reminding her of what she had been. Harry snapped his fingers, and the candle to her left burst into flames, she breathed out a small sigh of relief. She had been unsure if the Old Magic would reject her, but it did not.

'The Old Magic has determined the participants as worthy of the melding,' Harry stated, his words passing through his mouth effortlessly, driven as much by him as by the magic surrounding them. 'By the acceptance of the old magic, whose opinion is to be respected, Harry James Pendragon shall now mix the blood that shall physical,' Harry bit his lip. That didn't sound right, 'physically,' he corrected himself when he caught Morgana mouthing the word for him. 'Physically bind the Potter, and Pendragon family together.' Harry picked up the dagger then swallowed, and looked at his mother fearfully.

'Whenever you are ready,' Morgana smiled gently, and lightly brushed her hand through his hair as she was so apt to do when he was stressed. Nodding, Harry pressed his lips together, and held his palm over the goblet then put the knife against his palm. He closed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing together as he sucked in a deep breath, gathering courage. His eyes were shining with determination as he pressed the knife against his palm, and cut down it. Harry watched with wide eyes as his blood flowed out of his wound, dripping into the goblet.

When Harry had enough blood in the goblet he passed the knife to his mother, and held his palm up to the ceiling, hoping the blood would stop flowing. He watched as Morgana effortlessly held her palm over the goblet, and cut into it. She squeezed her hand together, digging her nails into the skin so that the blood came out faster. Harry had always been amazed by his mother, she had strength that he could never dream of having. Even then when she was forcing the blood out of her, her eyes were as lucid and clear as ever, there was not a single haze that erupted in her eyes from pain. If anything she looked more calm then he had ever seen her. He remembered her stories she had told of the days of when she had magic, and he could guess that it was the magic surrounding them that gave her, her serene countenance.

Morgana lifted the goblet, and handed it to Harry, 'you need only drink a little bit of this.' She assured him, she watched as he took the goblet from her hands then lifted it to his lips. The fact that he was gaining a real, legal family overshadowed the fact that he was drinking blood, so without much hesitance he drank the blood from the goblet. Lowering the cup he handed it to his mother before his small pink tongue darted out of his mouth, catching any blood that was on his lips. A part of him was fearful that if he did not get all the blood, the ceremony would not work. Of course, that was as baseless as Morgana's fear that Harry would not accept her. Taking the cup from Harry she lifted it to her mouth, and drank freely before lowering it back into the center of the circle. As soon as the bottom of the goblet hit the wooden floor, the candles on the outer circle burst into flames as the Old Magic acknowledged the end of the ceremony.

'It has ended,' Harry whispered, moments later the candles blew out as the old magic disappeared from the room, and the lights flickered back on, no longer oppressed by the foreign power.

'It is now time for bed,' Morgana stood, and held her hand out to Harry. He took it eagerly, letting her pull him up. 'When you awake in the morning the differences may be obvious, but we may never know,' she watched as his eyes filled with tears. She felt her breath catch as panic filled her being, she still wasn't used to Harry being emotional, and froze up whenever he became teary eyes.

'I love you mother.' Within a moment he had lunged at her, and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, his head barely touching her stomach. Morgana's mouth went dry as she silently ran her fingers through his hair. It had been four years since she had taken him under her wing, and the child had become extremely attached to her.

'I love you too, Harry,' the words that were once only the manifestation of Lily Potter's love for her son were now also true for Morgana. She had become attached to the boy, perhaps more so than he was to her. He was her new family, however, unlike her half-sister Morgause, Harry made her better not worse. 'Now go to bed, you have school tomorrow.' Morgana leaned down, and kissed his forehead, avoiding the mark on the left of his forehead. She made a mental note to research his strange scar at the first chance she got.

'Yes, mama, goodnight!' Harry smiled up at her lopsidedly before letting go of her, and running to his room.

'Good night,' Morgana stood straight as she watched him leave, as soon as he disappeared up the stairs she started cleaning up the leftovers of the ritual. When he was in bed she had business to attend to, hopefully she could clear up how the boy had even gotten into the hands of his relatives. She was aware of the possibility that if she ever found the orchestrator of the event that she would not be merciful.

 

* * *

 

Morgana's nails tapped against the desk rhythmically as she awaited the goblin. She could hear their whispers outside as they walked down the hall, they had better return with the papers she needed. It had taken Morgana far too long to create an identity in this new world. She was only just making one now because her official documents had come in the mail the previous week, which lead her to officially making Harry her son in the muggle world. She took a chocolate frog container out of her bag, and opened it, deftly catching the frog before biting into it's head. As she chewed on the chocolate she picked the card out of it, and smirked as she stared at the character.

'Morgan le Fay,' her words came out in a scornful whisper as she flipped the card in her fingers. Merlin had taken great efforts to change the worlds perspective of her, unlike the hair that was as dark as the magic she studied, the Morgana in the card had auburn hair. The last name was completely off as well, she had never once been referred to as Morgan le Fay, she had never even heard the name before, and she had gone by many names. Merlin had certainly made sure that nobody would recognize her in this future.

'Pendragon,' the coarse voice of the Goblin attending her sounded as he walked into the room, snapping her out of her thoughts.

'Blordak,' her voice was relaxed, not revealing the anxiety that was welling up inside of her. If this didn't pan out then who knew what could happen to Harry, he was only her son in the wizarding world, that left another world open to the possibility of her son being taken from her. 'Is everything going as planned?'

'Most assuredly.' He wobbled over to the table then sat down before laying the scroll down in front of her. 'The,' his tongue clicked against his sharp feral looking teeth, 'Dursleys have signed it.' Morgana placed her index finger on the paper, and pulled it towards her, the pale yellow colour of the parchment contrasted with the bright red nail polish that was decorating her nails.

'Excellent, what else must I do?' Her eyes narrowed as she read the words on the page, taking note that it looked the same as it had the first time she saw it, save the new signatures of the Dursleys and officials that saw to it.

'You need only sign it.'

'Who is currently in my place as the representative of the House of Potter?' Morgana picked up the quill beside her, and dipped it into the ink, awaiting the response of the goblin. Morgana had been curious ever since she, and Harry had performed the inheritance ceremony a week ago, as to who was making the decision in the Wizengamot in Harry's name.

'Emmeline Vance,' her eyes narrowed as she swiftly signed her name on the line.

'From the most noble House of Vance?'

'There has not been a House of Vance since the fourteenth century.' Blordak's long pointed nose seemed to twitch as he stared her down.

'Of course not.' Morgana said as she placed the quill down and leaned back in her seat.

'Am I right to assume,' the harsh guttural sounds of Gobbledygook filled the room as he spoke. 'That the last scion of Potter has been taken into the family of the dark witch Morgan le Fay?'

'My dear Blordak,' Morgana purred out her response in Gobbledygook, 'I can assure you that I am not, and have never been called by the name le Fay before.'

'Our records show that the name of Morgan changed mid way through the century that she was killed.'

'Well,' Morgana stood up, and pushed the paper towards him. 'If your records show Morgan has been killed, how can I be her? I appreciate your hard work today, I'll be most glad to have the finished paperwork sent to me.' Her lips curled into smile as she watched him stand up and open the door for her. She had always appreciated the goblins and their sharp tongued, point-oriented culture. They made much more sense to her at times than her fellow humans.

'We'll be most glad to have it finished for you.' Blordak followed her down the hallway towards the central foyer of the bank. 'It was a pleasure doing business with you, High Priestess.' Morgana remained silent, the only sign that she had heard him was the confident smirk that was planted on her naturally pink lips.

'I will be bringing Harry to the bank in due time, perhaps you will anticipate his coming.' She gripped the lapels of her coat, tugging the coat tighter around her body as she walked.

'Of course,' the goblin bowed as he watched her exit Gringotts, a wicked smile was already blooming on his face as he imagined the surprise the return of one of the greatest witches of all time to the wizarding world. 'Welcome back, Lady Morgana,' he whispered his words in Gobbledygook before turning back to his work place.

* * *

'Where are we going first?' Harry was following alongside his mother, his keen eyes catching the curious looks of the magical people surrounding them. His mother had been at Diagon Alley just the day before, and had told him about the goblins she had met. He was disappointed that he wouldn't have a chance to meet them as well, but they did have others things that were needed. Like his school supplies.

'To get your wand, of course,' Morgana's fingers were entwined behind her back as she walked, giving her the image of complete sophistication. Harry was no different, after eight years under her tutelage he had indeed grown to be a cultured young pre-teen. Morgana was oblivious to her son's obvious form of copying, instead her mind was recalling her promise to bring Harry to the bank that she had made four years back. The goblins had not mentioned it when she retrieved his money the previous day, but she knew they remembered. It would be best to wait though, she knew that, as did they. It was not the right time to do such overt things.

'When will I get my books?' Harry's green eyes flickered indignantly as he caught some of the men they were passing looking at his mother far too appreciatively. He was well aware his mother was attractive, with her high cheekbones, full coloured lips, and sharp blue eyes she had gained a lot of admirers. He had taken to tricking them away in secret, to him there was no man worthy of his mothers hand in marriage, no one was worthy of the hand of the great Morgana.

'After you stop glaring at the people around us.' A small smile curled Morgana's red lips as she looked down at her son. True to the inheritance ceremony they had conducted, his body had changed to adapt to her dna. His hair had become a little more manageable, and he had already grown just a bit taller, she could tell he was going to be athletic, and very tall, at least 6 foot; much like her younger half-brother. His jaw had sharpened just a bit, and his eyebrows were just a touch thinner giving him the same aristocratic handsomeness that she had. But he still looked much like his birth parents, he wouldn't look out of place if they were still living. Unlike her brother who had broad shoulders, Harry still had the lithe frame that his father had, as well as the keen emerald eyes that was so distinctly _Lily_. The thought of his mother sent a whirlwind of mized feelings through Morgana. Sometimes the woman drove her mad, other times she was thankful for their connection. Most times, however, she acted neutrally.

'I will. After they stop leering at you.' His lips pulled into a childish pout as they walked along the street of Diagon Alley. She sometimes forgot his age, she had always treated him like an adult. Sometimes she swore that he only whined, and pouted so that she would remember his age, and thus remember how much he has done for his age.

'Nobody is leering at anybody,' she waited as her son opened the door for the Ollivanders wand shop then made space for him to enter after she stepped in. Her nose flared at the dusty scents assailing her nose, she had wished she could have gotten his wand from a toy shop but he had insisted that he needed a real one for school. 'Do what you do,' she spoke the latin proverb softly as she picked up on of the wand boxes.

'And I shall.' Harry stepped forwards to the counter remaining impassive to the man that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. He, and his mother had a long conversation about whether or not to keep his wandless magic secret, after they determined he should she declared he should get a fake wand. She especially wanted it to be a fake muggle wand so that when any purebloods commented on his wand they would be complimenting muggle culture, but he had said he wanted a real wand. He wanted to share in every part of the Hogwarts experience.

'Ah, I would recognize those features anywhere, Harry Potter has entered my shop today.' Ollivander smiled as his eyes flickered up to look at Morgana. There was a questioning look in his eyes as he failed to recognize the woman that look thoroughly unimpressed by the magical surroundings. She could very well have been a foreign pureblood, yet despite her aristocratic air, she had a strong british accent. The only logical answer was that she was a muggle, one that was distinctly unsurprised by the eclectic eccentric thing that was his store.

'Mr. Ollivander, how will we be finding my wand today?' Harry folded his hands behind his back trying to keep on point, he could already tell that the man was prone to wander in the mind.

'I will take your measurements.' As Ollivander spoke measuring tapes started floating in the air, measuring Harry's arm length, and height. 'And then I will give you some wands, and you will give them a small flick to see if they feel right to you.' Morgana's eyebrow raised as he started grabbing wand boxes, not showing any signs of looking at the measurements.

'Trial and error,' Morgana whispered in Harry's ear, 'this may take awhile. You still have the choice to leave.'

'Of course,' Harry smirked as he picked up the first wand Ollivander laid in front of him. Morgana barely restrained the urge to scoff and glare at the innocent shopkeeper. She really wished her son wasn't going to conform so absolutely to the rest of the students. She wanted him to stand out, she wanted him to show his full capabilities. She may not be able to be completely known, but that didn't mean Harry couldn't be.

'Beech wood 12 inches,' Ollivander barely finished speaking before Harry put the wand down, and closed the box before pushing it back to him. 'Yes, well, it usually takes a few tries to find the right wand.' Ollivander smiled at Harry before handing another wand to him, Harry didn't even bother to let Ollivander start describing it before he put it back in the box.

'This may be an unprecedented request,' Morgana's voice came out in a drawl as she stared at Ollivander seriously. 'But obviously this method takes a long time, and we have places to be. I have no qualms about your approach but I think this would go better if Harry were to choose his wand.'

Ollivanders lips thinned as he looked at Harry, 'yes, of course,' he stepped back from the counter allowing Harry through. 'I never got your name.'

'I never gave it,' Morgana responded cheekily, closing her eyes as she felt Harry's magic flood through the shop. In order for a wizard to choose their proper wand they hold it so the wand can test their magic, see if it fits. But for a more skilled wizard, or one who controlled their magic as she had taught Harry to, they could extend their magic so it can react with all of the wands surrounding them. Unfortunately Harry wasn't nearly as skilled as the wizards who could force their magic from themselves like that, but she was confident he was become just as strong as them.

'I found it, mother,' Harry pulled out a box that had gold sparks almost leaking out of the top.

'Good job, Harry.' Morgana smiled proudly ignoring Ollivanders start as he heard Harry's term for her.

'What wand has chosen you?' Ollivander smiled at Harry, eager to see which of his wands had reacted to the young wizard. He never once mentioned the control that Harry had over his magic, or that he had apparently been adopted.

'Holly,' Harry's eyes scanned the words on the box, putting it down on the table as his mother put the 7 gallons needed onto the counter.

Ollivander opened the box and nodded, '11" Holly, phoenix feather core, curious, very curious.'

'What is?' Harry questioned, avoiding looking at his mother. He knew if he looked he would get a look of disapproval, he had been taught that asking questions showed interest, and one must always be careful who they show interest to. Without a doubt she would classify Ollivander as someone to avoid showing interest to if possible.

'I remember every single wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather, just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar.' Ollivander put the lid back onto the box before collecting the money Morgana had given him.

'Right,' Harry glanced at his mother who raised her eyebrow at him, her mute way of saying that he should never had asked that question. 'Thank you for your assistance today,' Harry picked up his wand then left with his mother.

'The people here think the dark lord is dead,' Morgana's tone was light, yet held scorn towards the magic folk.

'Why? Isn't it obvious that he is alive?' He followed her into Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore.

'No, they appear to not know of his dabbles in one of the darkest of arts.' Morgana grimaced in disgust as she walked along the aisles where they had bookshelves that contained the specific books needed for Hogwarts, 'even I would not use such magic.'

'Of course not,' Harry grabbed the books he didn't have, A History of Magic, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. 'What does it require to cast it?'

'You need only kill an innocent,' Morgana walked towards the cashier, pulling out the three galleons needed to buy the book.

'Need only,' Harry repeated quietly as he tucked his books under his arm. He looked away from the cashier he was walking towards as he spotted a young girl who was struggling with all of the books she was carrying. Without any forethought he rushed over to her and took some of the books from her, 'where are you heading?'

'Excuse me?' The girl's brown eyes widened in shock as she stared at the boy who had helped her. Noticing her surprise a teasing grin curled his lips, sending the young girl blushing. It was as if he had come right out of the books she read, he was polite, and courteous, not to mention charming.

'I'll help you with your books, are you going to the cashier?' Harry smiled and laughed, finding the girl's reaction amusing. He did not have very many encounters with girls his age, but he always enjoyed the way they seemed to fumble around him. It was nice to see a girl more composed, even if she was turning a very lovely shade of pink.

'Yes, I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger,' she walked up to the cashier before dropping the books she was carrying onto the counter with a thump.

'I'm Harry Pendragon,' Harry put down her books then held his hand out to her, when she took it he lifted her hand to his mouth, and brushed the back of her hand with his lips before letting go. He would never act that way normally, but he felt particularly at ease that day, which only brought out his teasing personality.

'Are you sure it's not Wickham,' she squeaked out before blushing a more furious red. Harry laughed, and looked back at his mother who had an approving smile on her face. In her eyes any young girl who could read Pride and Prejudice was a jewel, not many young kids read such classics, and even less could understand them. Of course she was only assuming that Hermione had read it, but she would bet the young girl had. That bet was not just supported by the amazing mass of books the girl was buying.

'I'm quite sure I would know if my son was a lying thief,' Morgana picked up the books she had just bought as two muggle parents, no doubt Hermiones, rushed up to the front counter.

'Are you sure you need all of those books at school?' The father smiled, and laughed at his daughter who pouted and nodded.

'Of course! I can't enter the school unprepared!' The laughing parents took note of Harry, and his mother.

'Hello, I'm Greg Granger, and this is my wife Marianne,' Greg held out his hand, and Morgana took it, shaking it before shaking his wife's hand as well.

'Do people ever ask if Stan Lee named you?' She mused smiling as he started laughing. Through Morgana's studies of the muggle world she had come to learn about the comic world, and quickly caught onto the habit of Marvel characters to have alliterated names. She supposed her joke might not have been funny to some people, but she herself thought it was quite amusing.

'No, but people wonder if Shakespeare named my daughter,' he shrugged before looking at the price of the books his daughter was buying. He sucked in a breath between his teeth before placing the money down, obviously

'Where are you going to next?' Harry helped place the books in the bag.

'Home, we made the bookshop our last stop, we all knew it was going to be the longest one after all,' Marianne smiled at her daughter who rolled her eyes, and picked up the heavy bag dedicated to carrying her new books.

'It was nice to meet you Harry,' Hermione smiled at him before looking up at her father.

'It was nice meeting you too Hermione, I'll see you on the train, right?'

'Of course!' In a burst of happiness Hermione hugged Harry tightly who awkwardly patted her back. He never really sought out physical contact with his mother so he was unsure how to react with her actions.

'Well it was nice to meet you Greg, Marianne, I'm sure our children will become more acquainted at Hogwarts.' Morgana smiled at the parents, and subconsciously started running her fingers through Harry's hair, relaxing the socially confused boy.

'It was nice meeting you as well, and I hope our children get the same house.' Greg spoke the last word confidently. A pureblooded wizard may have found offense to a muggle being so at ease with their lingo but it stood true that the muggle world also had some schools that ran on a house system.

'Goodbye, Hermione,' Harry waved to her, smiling when she waved by ecstatically.

'Harry,' Morgana stayed still until the Grangers were gone, 'you are going to be careful with you associate with.' She spoke bluntly but he could sense the question at the end, asking if he was going to follow through with her demand.

'Of course, do you not approve of her?'

'I do, she is a bright witch, I see Ravenclaw in her future.' She spoke dismissively as she started walking out of the store. She herself had been a Ravenclaw when she had been at Hogwarts, she had even served under Rowena Ravenclaw herself, she knew a Ravenclaw when she saw one. 'I want you to remember that the friends you make will become burdens if you make the wrong ones. You have to keep your head clear, and look underneath their masks.' Harry nodded fully acknowledging his mothers point. He would be spending the next seven years with those people, and he didn't want to end up with an old friend becoming an archenemy, much like what had happened between Merlin, and his Mother.

 


	3. Chapter 3

'Rules?' Morgana tugged her long dark purple scarf off then wound it around Harry's neck.

'Don't think, speak, or eat?' Harry smirked as she grasped the ends of the scarf, tugging it roughly so it nestled into the crook of his neck. Her fine black eyebrow rose, challenging him to continue joking around. 'Be careful who you speak to, don't end up in Gryffindor,' she tugged roughly on the scarf again. He laughed loudly before grabbing his cart and answering the question properly. 'Be mindful of what you say, someone is always listening. Message you if anything happens, and be careful of the Headmaster, he's suspicious.'

'Play into his delusions if you have to, just be careful.' She splayed her fingers through her hair, the dark purple of her nail polish blended with his black hair. 'What else?'

'Be careful who you become friends with, if they run their mouth they are dangerous. Exuberance can always be toned down with maturity, so not all energetic people are bad choices.'

'Good.' Morgana stood up, and started walking along with him, her heeled boots clacking against the floor of the train corridor. Morgana remained silent, her coloured pink lips drew together as she stared ahead of them. She was undeniably excited for her son, but she was also understandably hesitant. She was releasing him into 7 years of constant peer influence, and unknown teachings. She had no idea what habits he might learn, or how well he would be taken care of.

'Yes, I'll look for Hermione,' Harry looked up at his mother, watching as her lips curled into a pleased smirk. At least she would have the reassurance that he would look for good company.

'So far your choices in friends has been wise,' without pausing she walked through the wall to platform 9, and 3/4. Harry blinked pausing before running after his mother, he trusted her wholeheartedly, and if she was willing to walk through a wall so was he. 'I hope wizards can do math,' Morgana brushed one of her perfectly coiffed curls out of her face. She had been able to deduce where the platform was because of math, she doubted that all wizards did that. She had a pretty good idea that it was only the tradition of being led to Hogwarts by their parents, then leading their children that helped the parents remember where to go.

'Are they really that deficient?' Harry frowned as he watched the hoard of people that were yelling, and crying. Parents were hugging their kids tightly, and children were fighting against them, struggling to hide their reddening cheeks. The older teens were watching the kids with bemused smiles, reminiscing the days when they were as nervous, and anxious. There were the groups that were more poor, with obvious second hand clothes. The rich groups were standing in the back with practiced sneers towards the middle and lower class, too righteous to bend down and give their children a proper healthy goodbye. Overall, it seemed like a normal group of people.

'The magic folk have lost their dignity,' Morgana's cold grey eyes scanned the room with obvious contempt, she saw herself superior to the people around them, and it wasn't hard to believe she was.

'I'll choose the right friends,' Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing in the familiar sweet scent of her perfume. 'I promise,' like the child he was he took comfort in his mother by rubbing his cheek lightly against her soft black coat.

'I know you will.' Morgana's voice was tender with understanding as she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing the small of his back. 'I have faith in you, you will do well. No matter the house you go in, I will always be proud of you. Know that Harry, and remember that when people preach to you on the train to go to certain houses. Keep true to yourself and let the hat do what it thinks is best,' she kissed his forehead then stood up straight.

'Of course.' Harry nodded in agreement, smiling as his mother ran her fingers through his hair for the last time. 'Good bye mama, I will make you proud.'

'I know you will.' Morgana smiled at him and watched as he walked towards the school train confidently, looking every bit the gentleman she had raised him to be. She was going to miss Harry, she could feel the emotional hum of agreement that her connection to his late mother gave her. With this as her punishment for destroying Camelot, she would do it every time.

Harry looked back at his mother with a fond smile, catching the way she ducked her head in thought, causing her hair to fall into her face again emphasizing her high cheekbones. He would miss his mother, he would miss being called Harry Pendragon, but he would enjoy the chance to learn. His mother had warned him that there was a good chance that the headmaster would ignore Harry's name change and have the records showing the last name Potter. He would learn to deal with it if only so he would grow as much as he could so he could impress her, so that one day he could meet his mother as her equal.

'Harry!' His head snapped back to the train as he heard Hermione call out to him.

'Hermione.' Harry smiled at her, his green eyes sparked with anticipation as he imagined what he would find out about her. He hadn't learned how to judge people like his mother but he was hoping with practice he would be able to see what she did immediately. He supposed that when people get betrayed they learn quickly to identify people personalities, he just hoped Hermione wouldn't betray him, not after all his mother had said about her.

'Do you want to sit together?'

'Of course,' he nodded his head slowly in affirmation before holding out his arm. Harry's mother wanted him to stand out, she wanted him to be the epitome of honour and sophistication, he wasn't about to drop that image after entering school. Even if his mannerisms would fit right into the regency era. 'Have you made any other friends yet?' Harry smiled at her not looking offended by her refusal of his arm.

Hermione's face was overshadowed with conflict. Part of her wanted to beam, smile as hard as possible because he indirectly called her his friend another side of her was bitter with the fear that she would never be able to make any friends. She was almost confident that once Harry got to know her more he would leave her, an instant termination of their friendship. 'Not yet.'

'My mother said discovering friends early is important,' Harry let one of his few secrets to be known to her. It wasn't a secret that made any real impact to anyone, and was one that many people already followed but Harry had learnt from his mother that secrets were only to be shared with the closest of people and he wanted to show her that he wanted to pursue their friendship.

'Are you looking for someone in particular?'

'Yes,' Harry opened the door of an empty compartment and let Hermione in first. 'My mother mentioned someone else she wanted me to become acquainted with, if only for shock value.' Morgana had said something about him becoming friends with the Malfoy scion in order to throw the Headmaster off, he had no idea why she had something against him. For all he knew she was just bitter towards Merlin, and saw the headmaster as a proper replacement, he had heard people saying he looked like Merlin at Diagon Alley.

'I see,' Hermione nodded, and took a book out of a bag she had with her.

'You're reading?' Harry frowned, his nose twitching as she nodded, running her finger along her bookmark that was firmly implanted in the large book on her lap. 'I was hoping we could talk longer,' he muttered quietly to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair, reminiscent of what his mother would do. The two fell silent, Hermione taken up in her book, and Harry mentally going through possible plans. How was he to find Malfoy? Would the scion come to him?

The door banged open as a short pudgy boy with full cheeks stared at them with obvious embarrassment. 'Ex-excuse me? Have you seen my toad? His name is Trevor.'

'No, I'm sorry,' Hermione shook her head, staring up at the ceiling in thought.

'We could always help you,' Harry looked over at Hermione who met his gaze with an approving smile.

'Really? I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom,' the young heir of the Longbottom fortune stuttered out with a thankful smile.

'I'm Harry Pendragon, this is Hermione Granger,' Harry held his hand out, keeping a straight face at the thin line of sweat that coated the nervous boys hand.

'Pleased to meet you,' Neville removed his hand quickly before wiping his own off on his pants, embarrassed by shaking a hand while his was so sweaty.

'When was the last time you saw Trevor?' Hermione questioned as she put her book away, preparing to help out.

'I was putting my bags away in the compartment, he was in my pocket.' Neville licked his chapped lips nervously, a guilty glint in his eyes. 'I don't like Trevor, he was given to me by my Great-Uncle Algie. I was hoping he'd get lost but then I would get in trouble.' Neville looked at the ground sheepishly as Hermione stared at him indignantly.

Before she could start scolding the boy she had just met Harry burst out into laughter, 'alright, let's right your mistake before you start getting more guilty.' Neville looked up at Harry, feeling relief at the amused lopsided grin that was on the younger boys lips. 'It would be best if we went together, we'll only search for a little while then I think we should all relax. He's bound to show up if we wait long enough.'

'Okay,' Neville nodded his head readily letting Harry take leadership over the situation.

'Neville,' Harry paused as just a step out of their compartment. 'Would you say you're a fickle type of person?'

'I-uh,' Neville frowned and looked at Hermione who just smiled apologetically at him. She had a feeling that the more time she spent with Harry she less she knew him so she really was not much help for the confused boy. Then again, at that point of time she barely knew Harry, so she didn't have much to base her thoughts on. 'I don't think I am?'

'That's good to know,' Harry mused before walking along the corridor again. 'Let's go find Trevor.' His sense may not be as good as his mother's but he had a pretty good feeling about Neville. If exuberance could be grown out of, so could nervousness, Neville just needed the right encouragement and he would make a good friend. He just knew it.

* * *

Harry caught sight of platinum blonde hair before anything else, 'Hermione, if he says anything stupid ignore him.' Licking his lips he fastened a smirk on his face before opening the door. 'Hello, is Draco Malfoy in here?' He was lucky that they had just retrieved Trevor (who was safely in Neville's pocket) because it meant that he could confront the young Malfoy as he was instructed.

'I'm Draco Malfoy,' the blonde stood up his eyes glistening with anticipation. He already knew who was knocking on his door, Harry Potter. If the meeting went well, and they became friends then his father would be pleased with him. The lack of warning that Harry gave for meeting Draco was the only thing that made him restrain his need to impress everyone with his wealth, he was too busy planning out what to say.

'I'm Harry Potter,' Harry held his hand out to the older boy before continuing to talk, 'I was hoping we could talk in private.' Draco shook his hand solidly, his hands cold, and dry compared to Nevilles clammy hands. Harry remained oblivious to the looks Hermione and Neville shared when they realised that he identified himself with a different surname to them.

'I would,' Draco pressed his lips together halting in his speech, he wouldn't be honoured, he was a Malfoy, he never catered to others they catered to him. 'Never be able to live with myself if I said no,' he finished smoothly with a smirk.

'Good,' Harry stepped back then walked back to the compartment he shared with Hermione, and Neville. The sound of Draco's expensive shoes followed after him, when the two of them entered the compartment Draco looked confused when Neville, and Hermione walked in after him, there was a silent questioning of what Harry meant by private. 'Draco these are my friends Neville, and Hermione. I hope you'll treat them with respect.' Harry sat down, and watched as Draco stared at them debating what to do.

Draco knew his family was dark, they opposed the light and the Longbottom family was a proud supporters of light. It was only natural for the dark to fight with the light, not to mention that Neville was almost a squib. To associate with a watered down wizard like Neville that was on the opposing side was risky, so the question of if it was worth it to be friends with Harry was hard to weigh. On top of that he didn't recognize Hermione from any of the pureblooded families but he didn't have a last name to screen her with, for all he knew Harry had done that on purpose. 'Draco Malfoy,' he held his hand out to the young witch in greeting watching her reaction carefully.

'Hermione,' she put her hand, and smiled as she refrained from saying her last name. There was no reason for Hermione to not say her last name but she paused when she saw the look Harry shot her.

'Pleased to meet you,' he released her hand quickly, struggling with the idea that just maybe he had shaken hands with a mudblood. He reluctantly held his hand out to Neville, grimacing when he felt the younger boys loose grip. 'Good to see you again, Neville.' Draco released his hand as soon as he could then sat down directly opposite Harry. Neville claimed the seat next to Harry before Hermione could, eager to stay away from the boy that always made fun of him at public functions. 'So, where have you been living all of these years?'

'I was adopted,' Harry watched as Hermione sat down beside Draco, keeping her eyes on the book she had pulled out. Since she heard his warning she had decided to withdraw herself, and not give the new boy a chance to insult her. 'I actually go by Pendragon now, instead of Potter. But I thought it would be best to introduce myself using a name you knew.' He flashed a smile at Draco who nodded looking quite unsure. After all, what was he to do when someone of Harry's status blatantly said they weren't going by such an honourable name?

'When did you discover you could do magic?' Draco looked at Neville, trying to keep the conversation flowing with everyone lest Harry throw him out. He was coming this far so he wasn't about to give Harry a talk about choosing the right folk, he had a bad feeling about it. He rarely listened to his restraints, but the thought of his father scolding was enough for him to finally pay attention.

'My Great-Uncle Algie held me outside the window then dropped me, my first bout of magic was making myself bounce off the ground,' Neville stuttered out as he went red, looking at the ground out of mortification. He wasn't embarrassed that Algie had done that, but rather that he was so weak he deserved it. Really he didn't, but when children are talked down their whole lives it often leaves them broken, and with warped thoughts.

'My parents were proud with all the stuff I did as a kid,' Hermione piped up as she looked at the group. 'They thought it was interesting, they always encouraged me,' she beamed at them, unknowingly convincing Draco that she must have been at the very least, a halfblood. It didn't occur to him that some muggle parents would be able to stomach their children having magic, least of all encourage it before they even knew that magical folk existed.

'I, of course, lived up to the Malfoy honour and was able to conjure my toys at a young age,' Draco smirked, his usual arrogance quickly making itself known, he couldn't completely hide his immature attitude for long. 'What about you, Harry?' Draco's father had told him to be careful when meeting the young Potter scion because the boy could be a dark lord in the making, and he could see it. Harry had an arrogance to him, unlike Draco's it seemed natural, honourable even. It seemed like he had every right, it attributed to the charisma he had.

'I never did,' Harry smirked at the identical looks of shock that flashed across the groups faces. 'My mother taught me when I was young how to control myself, she said the strongest wizards were not the ones that had the greatest accidental magic, they were the ones who learned how to resist the easy way out. She would be proud of how you held it in,' Harry glanced at Neville making the boy go red, barely containing the physical embodiment of his negative thoughts.

'Does that mean she taught you some spells?' Hermione's eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she pulled out her wand. 'I've been practicing some, I couldn't wait to open up my school books.'

'What classes are you looking forward to?' Draco's pale eyebrows went up as he mentally solidified his assumption that she was from a magical family. The only way she could have practiced the spells was if she was in a magical house, he didn't even consider the fact that she practiced with a pencil every time.

'Potions obviously, and charms, transfiguration is the other one that's high on my list. I always loved reading about witches that could turn people into animals!' Hermione's eyes brightened as she thought of Ronald Dahls the Witches, not even realizing that she was encouraging Draco's viewpoint that she was a halfblood.

'Are you practicing magic?' The calm that the quartet had was disrupted instantly by the eager young red head that barged into their compartment. 'My brothers taught me a spell. Are you really Harry Potter?' Instantly the redhead looked at Harry, ignoring everyone else in the compartment, 'I'm Ron Weasley. Have you really got the, you know,' Ron pointed to his forehead as the whole compartment gaped at him. Not only had he completely stormed into the room uninvited but he had the sheer audacity to ask an orphan if he really had the scar that reminded him daily that his parents were murdered in front of him.

'I hardly think that's an appropriate question to ask,' Hermione snapped, accentuating what she said by slamming her book shut with a faint thump. If she had not met Harry that day in the bookstore she never would have been as calm as she was. She had only just bought the books that said his name the day she met him so it gave her a pretty good look into his character (though really that was just childish arrogance, she barely knew him after all). She had realized pretty fast that most of what was said was junk.

'Yeah,' Neville muttered quietly in agreement, thrown off by the whirlwind that was Ronald Billius Weasley. Of course Hermione would had been much the same, and very overwhelming as well but having a friend beforehand helped tone her down. She had also taken to heart what her parents said, when in Rome do as the Romans do. It didn't mean she was hiding herself by not being as exuberant as usual, it meant that she was keeping herself controlled until she knew people would be comfortable with her.

With the amount that Hermione had been bullied in school because of how she acted, she had to learn that there was a time and a place for everything. Her wisdom grew each time one of her peers mouthed off at her or criticized her views, she learned how to adapt. She learned that it wasn't wrong, fearful, or stupid to tone herself down. When her peers cried out in shock and hostility at her wise words about keeping oneself guarded, her teachers were shocked into silence at the girls miraculous understanding of something that took most adults years to learn. But, she did have a hard time of putting her words into practice, the comfort of having a real friend certainly helped.

'There is an old saying that when humans die, dolphins will rule the world,' Harry started as he looked out the window, before fixing his green eyes on the young Weasley. Ron gulped feeling the intensity of the glare Harry was giving him, which was no surprise since Harry had Morgana's patented glare down pat.

'What does that even mean?' Ron scoffed and crossed his arms, shocked that the boy-who-lived was saying some weird proverb, let alone was so hostile.

'Us humans are still standing,' Harry stated blandly, only Ron remained oblivious to the fact that Harry was calling Ron the dolphin, hinting the red head was lower than them.

'He means go away,' Draco drawled as he smirked at the Weasley.

'Malfoy!' Ron hissed, his face turning an unattractive red as his noticed the blonde for the first time, 'what are you doing in here.'

'I was invited.'

'Invited, you're corrupting Harry's mind! Turning him evil with all your stupid Slytherin mumbo jumbo! He's going to be in Gryffindor like all the great wizards!'

'I would appreciate it if you did not doubt my choice of acquaintances,' Harry stood up, and stared Ron down, already taller than the boy. Draco gulped from behind Harry, instantly sighing a mental breath of relief that he hadn't insulted Ron like he had wanted to. Obviously the Potter (Pendragon?) scion didn't approve of insulting people, unless it was in the form of some ludicrous proverb.

'Fine, whatever,' scoffing in disbelief Ron marched away from their compartment making sure to slam the door as hard as possible.

'I thought you said you were supposed to make friends,' Hermione frowned watching as Harry dropped down in his seat relaxed, as if he hadn't just death glared a random boy.

'Mother told me to use discernment with who I chose,' Harry looked back out the window, getting caught up in the scenery outside. 'She was very specific when telling me that some people would be inclined to betray. He has a jealous heart, he would have betrayed me once too much.' The trio stared at each other in disbelief at Harry's clinical choices, unlike them he had made that choice without an ounce of emotion, settling only for what would benefit him. Yet at the same time there was truth to it, as much as Hermione wanted to argue that everyone should be given a chance it was doubtful that Ron would be able to keep his mouth shut long enough to mature until he was well older, perhaps even out of school.

'It's about time that we should be getting dressed in our robes,' Draco walked out of the compartment not looking back. Harry's statement was very clear, Draco had figured Harry had ulterior motives for meeting with him, and that settled it. There was no way he fit into the category of not betraying anyone, no matter how loyal Draco really was nobody seemed able to see that. Not that Draco had fully realised that he held that bitterness within him, but the effects of it were still nudging at his mind. He would have to mature a great deal more for that kind of introspection.

'He's right,' Harry stood up before smiling at the two people left over. 'Meet back here after we change?'

'I,' Hermione gaped looking rather like a fish before nodding, 'of course!' She smiled before running out of the room, Harry had seemed so lethargic and serious earlier, to see him smiling again was relieving. She knew most people would think he was manipulative but she recognized that look, he had grown up too fast. Some moments he would forget himself, and act like a child again, she only recognized it because she did the same thing sometimes.

'Why?' Neville licked his lips and looked down at his feet, freezing as Harry ran his fingers through Neville's hair much like how Morgana did for Harry.

'My mother taught me to see every side a person has, I want to help you find the one you're hiding.' Harry smiled at him lopsidedly before walking away. 'Come on, or we're going to lose our compartment.'

'C-coming!' Neville stuttered out before running after Harry.

* * *

'Have you wondered what house you're going to be in?' Hermione questioned as she followed close to Harry.

'My parents were both in Gryffindor.' Neville shrugged his shoulders weakly, the silent it's what is expected of me was obvious.

'My mother told me to trust the sorting hat implicitly, that houses have become so diluted nowadays that no matter where I go there will be misunderstandings, so I may as well suffer in the place that suits me better than the place I think will.' Harry shrugged his shoulders before grinning, his eyes clearly softening when thinking of his mother. He really was a mama's boy, and he wasn't ashamed, he refused to bend to the stereotypes that men had to be pillars that lacked emotions. She had told him enough stories of how that caused people to fall.

'First years, first years over here!' The three of them went quiet at the heavy accent the large man was producing. Ducking his head to avoid the gaze of the half giant Harry climbed into the boat looking for Draco as he heard the instruction for four to a boat.

'You're looking for him, aren't you,' Neville went red after realizing he had been so blunt with Harry.

'Shock value,' Hermione stated matter of factly, not saying a word when a stranger settled into their boat silently, not saying anything.

'You never said what house you wanted to be in,' Harry leaned against the side of the boat, barely sparing a glance to the newcomer.

'I was going to say Gryffindor,' she trailed off making it clear that Ron had deterred her from the house of the lions. She looked at the new person, opening her mouth to speak.

'Don't talk to me, I'm sharing a boat with you because I have to, pretend I'm not even here,' the girl snapped before looking out at the lake.

'Tracey,' Neville whispered, wincing as she turned her glare on him.

'You never actually said what house you wanted to be in,' Hermione pointed out, trying to shake off the uncomfortable fear that she would once again be the loser at school.

'Neither did you,' Harry ran his hand through his hair, the act was an attempt to stave off the anxiety that was filling him. His mother may have said that she didn't care what house he got placed in but he knew he wanted to be a Ravenclaw. He wanted to follow in her footsteps, have the kind of wisdom that made a person's soul seem as strong, and charismatic as his mothers. Because he was so young, he didn't realise that her charisma came from life experiences, not from the house she was in.

'None of us did.' Neville added in blushing when he gained the attention of the whole boat.

'Yeah,' Harry laughed and nodded, 'we're all one and the same, huh?'

'I don't think so,' Neville whispered making it obvious that he was severely lacking in confidence.

'I'll fix you,' Harry adjusted his black tie. 'Just call me the Doctor.'

'Doctor who?' Neville frowned oblivious to why Hermione and Harry were suddenly snickering. 'What?'

'It's nothing Neville,' Harry was the first to see the castle, the familiar feeling of the Old Religion settled over his body with the warmth, and comfort of nostalgia. He could feel it welcoming him, the son of the high priestess who was, for all he knew, the last practitioner that followed the Old Religion.

'It's beautiful,' Hermione whispered enchanted by the castle that seemed to be glowing in the night.

'We're going to be spending the next seven years of our life here,' Neville's words were light with awe as he leaned forwards to get a better look. For some reason he had a good feeling about what was to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry stepped in line with Draco as they approached the steps of Hogwarts. Hermione and Neville followed behind him, whispering to themselves about the courses available. Well, Harry didn't have to look behind him to know that Hermione was the one talking, and Neville was simply listening. 'Harry,' Draco nodded his head in greeting feeling contempt as Goyle, and Crabbe looked at each other in surprise that the legendary Harry Potter was seeking Draco Malfoy's presence.

'Draco, you didn't return to the compartment after changing.' Before Draco could respond to Harry's comment a strict looking woman clapped her hands together gaining the attention of the students gathered. Harry could feel his scalp aching as he stared at her bun that was pulled as tight as it could go.

'The first years, Professor McGonagall,' the giant man said, gaining the attention of the woman. Harry refrained from speaking when he heard Draco mumbling about filthy giant mongrels, instead he filed away the name he mumbled, Hagrid, for reference. Obviously it was the name of the kindly half-giant that helped them.

'Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here,' McGonagall's prim words were a huge contrast to Hagrid's heavily accented speech. Looking away from the large man she pulled open the doors in front of them, and led the hoard of students into the school. Harry scoffed lightly as he took in the decor his mother had described to him. Nothing had changed, there were still flaming torches to light the halls. The torches were hung upon cold looking walls that reassured him in his decision to learn warming spells from Morgana.

'It's so, medieval,' Hermione whispered as her eyes traveled up to the ceiling they couldn't see, the castle was far too big to even see the top.

'It hasn't changed at all,' Harry ran his hands through his hair already imagining what he was going to write to his mother about Hogwarts. He followed after Professor McGonagall like the rest of the students, stopping outside of a large set of wooden doors. They could hear the loud drone of students talking on the other side, awaiting the first years arrivals.

'Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seat in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points.'

Harry drifted off as her lecture started to bore him, Draco stood beside him like a constant reminder of his dilemmas. Draco was the epitome of the backwards wizards his mother was teaching him to keep away from. Morgana stood for the survival of magic kind, she stood for the growth of what could be, and that involved muggleborns, purebloods, halfbloods, goblins, centaurs, mermaids, that involved every creature that had magical heritage. It was also inclusive of inbreeding between muggles and magic folk, because his mother believed that everyone could become magical through the Old Religion. There were muggles that could gain magic, though usually through excessively dark rites, rites that his mother could never do. However, whatever Merlin had done to her had completely stripped her of all possibility of magic so those rites meant nothing to her anyway. She couldn't even enact those horrible rites.

'I shall return when we are ready for you,' Harry blinked himself out of his thoughts, watching as McGonagall left them alone in their turmoil.

'How do they sort us into houses?' Neville questioned meekly as he grasped his cloak fastener, and fixed it so it was stationed under his chin rather than under his ear, in his hurry he had put his cloak on completely lopsidedly.

'Some sort of test, I think.' Ron walked up to the group of people, conspicuously glaring at Draco as he did. 'Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.'

'My mother said that they used to have students go through a memory, and their actions were examined to see what houses they showed aptitude for,' Harry mused as he looked at the door to the entry hall.

'That hasn't happened for centuries,' Hermione stated matter of factly, 'Hogwarts a History alluded to tests being used and being evaluated by the founders but after they died that was rendered impossible when they died.'

'Rendered impossible,' Ron mocked, 'did you swallow a dictionary?' The students around him snickered as Hermione flushed red.

'At least she has one Weasley, can your family even afford a dictionary or is illiteracy encouraged?' Draco shot back smirking as Ron's ears burned red with embarrassment.

'Shut up, Malfoy! Or is it impossible for death eaters to be good,' the students around them went silent. There were many reasons why, not only had Ron mentioned the war that was still scarring the hearts of the families in the wizarding world but Ron's insult didn't make sense, it was clearly only meant to emphasize Draco's heritage.

Before Draco or anybody could come up with a retort of any type a crowd of ghosts had approached them, their translucent bodies making clear their death status. 'Forgive, and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-' the short ungainly monk looking ghost stated before being cut off.

'My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name, and you know, he's not really even a ghost.' The medieval looking ghost whose outfit was decked out with tights, and a ruff, said. The ghost looked shocked to see the students standing there. 'Say, what are you all doing here?'

Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together in the process, 'I hardly think you have precedence over Peeves.' He spoke up gaining the attention of all the students watching, especially the shocked ghosts.

'And why's that?' The Fat Friar questioned as he floated closer to Harry, ignoring the appalled look on the Ghost that was speaking previously.

'Peeves has been in the school since approximately the year it was created, how long have you been in the school?'

'Now hold on-' The medieval ghost hissed, whereas the Fat Friar had a thoughtful look on his face, not minding a point that supported his aims.

'Move along now,' McGonagall interrupted the second ghost before he could finish speaking. 'The Sorting Ceremony's about to start,' grumbling amongst themselves, the ghosts floated through the wall.

'Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!' The Fat Friar exclaimed happily to everyone, 'my old house you know,' with his last jolly smile he followed the rest of the ghosts through the wall.

'Now form a line,' Professor McGonagall demanded, 'and follow me.'

'How did you know that? Hogwarts a History doesn't say when Peeves was first at the school,' Hermione followed close to Harry, determined to find out where exactly he got his information from. He couldn't exactly say that his mother was in Hogwarts in the years of the founders, and Peeves without gaining unwanted attention, so he remained silent to her constant prodding. The only moment she went quiet was when they entered the great hall.

The hall itself wasn't that extraordinary, it had five long tables overall, and the candles were floating in mid air (as one would expect of a magical hall) and the older students were watching the first years with expected contempt, remembering when they were as small, and scared. What made the room so excitable started with the old wizards hat that was laying on the top of a wobbly wooden stool directly in front of the teachers tables. He hadn't been expecting a pensive like in the old times, but a hat certainly wasn't on his repertoire of expected charmed items. The other thing that directed the attention of the first years, and caused the largest amount of talk, was the ceiling that instead of showing rafters and wood showed a black night sky that was splayed with shining stars.

'It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History,' Hermione stated with great pride to whoever was close enough to hear. Within moments of Hermione's random fact of the day, the hat that few students had noticed opened two flaps that seemed to resemble a mouth, and started singing at the top of it's non-existent lungs.

'Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!'

As soon as the strange hat finished its song the hall burst into applause, most of it was from relieved first years that realized there were no trolls to wrestle or memories to fight through. 'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' McGonagall stated as she unrolled a long roll of parchment. 'Abbot, Hannah,' a girl he hadn't noticed before stumbled forward, and sat down. Within moments of the hat being on her head it opened it's odd cloth lips and shouted her future for all the hall to hear.

'Hufflepuff!' Harry stiffened as a table started cheering, and clapping for the young first year that was joining their house. What if he was put in Hufflepuff? What could he ever change if he got submitted to the lies of meekness, and fear that was apparently the main characteristic of every Hufflepuff? He watched as another girl walked to the stool, what if his bias influenced the hat? He could say he wanted any house the hat put him in, but that didn't mean that it couldn't see his desire for Ravenclaw. He barely noticed a boy walk past him as his name was called

As if on cue he heard Terry Boot's new house being called, 'Ravenclaw,' he liked the way they shook hands with their new comrade. Harry especially liked the possibility of being closer to his mother. Morgana may have raised him but sometimes he felt a disconnect. She was from decades in the past, he was in his proper era, she had never had children before, he couldn't remember his parents, she no longer had magic, he was just learning how to use his. It could be his chance to be that much closer to his mother.

The only thing that shook him out of his musing was hearing Hermione's name being called, impulsively Harry grabbed her hand. She paused in shock, and stared at Harry who ran his hand through his hair, 'let the hat choose, please.' Nodding slowly to him she walked to the stool, and grasped the hat eagerly before jamming it on her head.

There were a few moments of silence, Harry was nervous to see her lips purse and her eyebrows furrow as if debating before the hat called out her house. 'Ravenclaw!'

'Thank goodness, I don't know what I'd do if she was in my house,' Ron scoffed and crossed his arms being just the bigot Harry had started to expect him to be.

'Longbottom, Neville,' Harry smiled encouragingly to the nervous boy he had met on the train, not lecturing him like he had Hermione. He had a feeling that the boy could go anywhere and turn out okay, and that he would let the hat stomp all over him, and force him to go to the house he's meant to be in. But apparently he was wrong, he could see Neville complexion pale as the hat's lip like cloth pulled together, both apparently in a strong debate.

After waiting longer than any other sorting so far the hat drew in a deep breath and exclaimed it's choice with a tone of relief, and pride, 'Gryffindor!' Neville got up and started to walking to his table, his black tie already the Gryffindor colours. As soon as laughter ricocheted throughout the hall Neville realized he was still wearing the hat, and meekly returned it before running to the welcoming table.

'Malfoy, Draco,' Harry watched Draco saunter up to the hat, not even bothering to sit down, instead just placing the hat upon his head.

'Slytherin!' Draco smirked and walked to his table looking far more pleased than most other students. Harry could feel his stomach churn as his turn came closer, he had introduced himself as Harry Potter on the train, what if he got called as Harry Pendragon, and everyone accused him of being a liar? Or worse, what if he was just called Harry Potter, with absolutely no indication of acknowledgment for his Pendragon heritage? Breathing out deeply he closed his eyes, and started concentrating on calming himself, he only opened his eyes when he heard his name 'Potter-,' was he doomed to forget every part of himself? 'Pendragon, Harry,' his lips forced themselves into a smile as he confidently walked towards the stool ignoring the whispers of the students that were questioning if he truly was Harry Potter, and why the heck he had a hyphenated name. Sitting down on the stool he placed the hat on his head, tilting his head as the familiar warmth of Old Magic warmed his head.

'Well would you look here,' the hat spoke into his head with glee, 'I never had the joy to sort Morgana.' Harry was immediately filled with an odd sense of discomfort, the Hat wanted to sort his mother which everyone thought, but him, that she was evil. What did it say about a hat that wanted to sort an assumed evil person? 'I never saw her as the evil women they knew her to be, she always had potential for good. She has acted upon it with you, tell me Harry, where do you think you belong?'

'Ravenclaw,' despite wanting to open his mouth he found his words floating in his head, heard by the hat atop it.

'Morgana taught you to honour books, I see you doing quite well there, but, you have quite a bit of talent outside of your wit.'

'My mother said that she wanted to make sure your biases for my house weren't clouded by the horcrux in my head,' Harry stated bluntly in his head, getting quite used to the telepathic communication. He didn't mention that he had no idea what a horcrux was, he never asked, he knew she would tell him if it was important.

'Or course she did,' the hats laughter echoed in Harry's mind, 'no Harry, you show great promise in Slytherin. It will certainly help you on the way to greatness.'

'She also said to trust you, so I won't ask for Ravenclaw, put me where you wish,' Harry could feel a release of tension in his body as he gave up his wishes. If his mother wanted his sorting pure and by the wishes of the hat, he would give her that.

'Perhaps, you should ask her why she wants you to trust my opinions young Pendragon,' the hats words whispered in his mind, setting alight a curiosity that he knew wouldn't be answered through a letter, 'I suppose it better be, Slytherin!' Harry took the hat off, his confusion clouding his spatial awareness. He was unaware of the shocked silence that descended upon the room, the great Harry Potter was not only in Slytherin, but he had another name docked onto his original one?

Harry walked to the Slytherin table as the sound of fast claps erupted there. After all, having Harry Potter was bound to be good for any house, especially when there were whispers among the pure-blooded death eater families that he might be their rallying force, the new Dark Lord. The one that could reignite their plans to rid the world of all the unworthy.

Not bothering to be aware of the thoughts of the Slytherins he smirked in greeting, and nodded back to the Slytherins who nodded in affirmation to his joining their house before he sat down beside Draco, calmly ignoring the Bloody Baron who was seated on Draco's other side. Harry only noticed the flabbergasted look that was plastered on his Headmaster Dumbledore's face. His lips curled into a smile as he stared at Dumbledore before he looked at Draco, 'I guess we'll be stuck together for the next seven years.'

'Y-yeah,' Draco nodded looking shocked, 'I guess so.' Within moments he gained his confidence as he smirked at the current Slytherin occupants, eager to stamp down his foot and become the leader by showing off his best connection so far, 'this is Harry Potter-Pendragon we met on the train. Harry, this is Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode,' he pointed out the students around them, feeling his excitement grow as he imagined his letter to his father. Perhaps Harry Potter-Pendragon was going to be the next dark lord, and if that was what was going to happen, he needed to get on his good side.

The very last Slytherin to be sorted to their table was Blaise Zabini who sat down opposite Harry. 'So, we got Potter,' the new occupant spoke with the same certainty that the rest of Harry's house had around their sorting, all of them had known before hand they were going to be Slytherin, only Harry hadn't. He believed firmly that his mother had known, there was no way she hadn't. There was no way Morgana could miss something like that.

'No,' Harry shook his head, his low hanging bangs falling into his bright green eyes that flashed with confidence as he spoke, 'you got Pendragon.' As soon as he said it he regretted it, his statement sounded completely and utterly cheesy.

'You deny your heritage?' Pansy questioned, her high raised squashed nose seemed to lift up in arrogance, Harry Potter leaving behind his wizarding heritage, that wasn't going to go over well in the pureblood community.

'No, however I was adopted by a woman whose name I would be a fool to deny.' Harry responded, his eyes focusing on the headmaster who stood up with a beaming smile, and outstretched arms. Harry caught the disappointed look that was pointed in his direction, and so wisely avoided the wizards eyes just to be safe, he didn't want his amusement to show.

'Welcome!' Dumbledore's presence instantly got the Slytherins looking at each other in dissatisfaction.

'What's that idiot going to say this year?' One of the older students hissed, resulting in the table erupting in quiet snickers. Instead of listening the the headmaster speak, Harry drifted off mentally, focusing on what his fellow housemates were saying. The whole consensus was on how ridiculous he was.

'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you,' the hall erupted into clapping and cheering, though Harry was fully aware of Slytherins jeers and patronising claps.

'Is he mad? My father always said he was a barmy in his days at school, but that's nonsense,' Tracey Davis scowled in his direction, distaste evident on her face.

'I heard his minds as fragile as a golden snidget,' Daphne piped up, adding in her view, 'it'll only take a light prod until it completely falls apart.'

'Has your mother said anything about Dumbledore?' Theodore Nott questioned, blatantly questioning Harry on his mothers blood origins.

'In my interpretation,' Harry started, speaking slowly as he debated his words. Could he be careful enough? Would he truly be able to survive the social etiquette of Slytherin? 'She said to cause him havoc because he seems odd to her.'

'He seems odd so she wants you to cause trouble with him?' Draco repeated in disbelief.

'No, she just thinks he's odd, but if she doesn't like him then there's something wrong with him.' Harry stated, 'if there is one person whose views can be trusted it's my mothers.'

'I once knew a Pendragon in my years of schooling.' The Bloody Baron spoke up, surprising the group, especially because it meant that the Pendragon lineage had to have some kind of pure blood backing if there was one at Hogwarts in the late 9th century, and one was still living to adopt Harry. Of course they never suspected that the great Merlin had sent the first Pendragon into the future.

'Perhaps she's like my mother, Morgana Pendragon,' Harry mused, smiling at the look of shock that flashed across the Baron's face. Perhaps it wasn't wise to overtly say who his adopted mother was, though the truth was often so unbelievable that the ghost may not have been able to pinpoint his mother as the Priestess of the Old Religion that attempted to take over the world, and kill a whole half of her family.

'You're that boy who supported Peeves, of course it would be a Pendragon who would say such a thing!' The Bloody Baron floated up from his place at the table. 'Bloody Pendragons,' he snapped as he started floating away, gaining attention of the surrounding tables. 'Of course we have your sort here again, always messing with the Old Religion. Either banning it or killing for it, hah!' His hoarse voice made his words seem darker to the listeners.

'I guess the last Pendragon at Hogwarts didn't make a good impression on him,' Harry mused as he loaded some roast beef, potatoes, peas, and gravy on his plate.

'I've never heard of a Pendragon at Hogwarts,' Pansy spoke up as the rest of the table digested hearing the Bloody Baron's conflicting views on the Pendragon agenda, as to whether they hated magic, or killed anyone without it. Though the words Old Religion sparked connections to the dark arts, to them, that was a proof he could be a dark lord in training.

Harry shrugged not saying what he wanted to because he knew that it would make it easy for the Slytherin's to find out that the last (and first) Pendragon to attend Hogwarts was Morgana, and that was his mothers name. It would only take a little more investigation to discover that Morgan Le Faye's real name was Morgana Pendragon, then he would really be in trouble.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning to the loud snores emitting from Crabbe, unfortunately all of the first year boys shared one room so there really was to be no privacy. Sighing to himself he got ready for his day, musing on how he was going to talk to his mother. He never had a chance to buy himself an owl, and he knew his mother would prefer to send a raven, but that would be only another glaring piece of evidence as to who his mother was.

Putting on his bag Harry absently grabbed his tie and left the common room, walking towards the great hall. The Slytherin boys were really not the worst, Theodore Nott was interesting to say the least, always ready to explain anything Harry didn't get, and Blaise had the sort of absent mindedness that came from a wise and clever mind. Overall, he knew they would suit him well, but he didn't think they were the inner circle type.

His mouth curled in distaste at the words he used, inner circle, his mother wasn't breeding him to be a dark lord, but some of the jargon she taught him sounded suspicious to those unaware of her ancestry. Of course a king would use those words, but he wasn't a king, or royalty of any kind for that matter. Sighing heavily he made sure his tie had a slim knot, and was straight before he let go of it. But who would be the inner circle type? Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets as he entered the great hall, he scanned the room and grinned as he saw Neville.

'Neville,' he walked towards the pudgy faced boy with a raised hand before dropping down across from him at the Gryffindor table. He watched in confusion as Neville ignored him and stared down at the wooden table in front of him. 'Don't tell me you believe that every Slytherin is bad, I'm not about to bully you.'

'I know,' Neville's words were quiet. 'Harry, the sorting hat made a mistake, I'm not meant for Gryffindor.'

'You're meant to be where you are, if the hat put you in Gryffindor, you belong in Gryffindor. My mother always used to tell me abyssus abyssum invocat.' Neville looked up from the table, his watery eyes focused on Harry. 'It's a latin phrase, and means deep calls to deep, it means that the more you know of a situation the deeper your understanding will be. The hat saw something you don't see yet, but the more you get to know yourself, the more you'll see the hat was right.'

'But, I have no courage,' Neville looked around the table, his words hushed as if he had spoken some kind of taboo phrase that would see him stoned.

'You have no courage, or you just have to look deeper? How can you know what you have, or do not, if you're spending all your time convincing yourself that you're not worth anything?' Harry ran his hand through his hair as he spoke the words he had heard so often from his mother. Because of her power, and ability he used to see himself as deficient compared to her but the motto deep calls to deep made him work harder. Because the harder he worked the more he understood, and the more he understood the more power he had, and eventually he could be like his mother, though without the stint where she tried to take over the world, that just wasn't his thing.

'I guess,' Neville muttered as he twirled his pudgy fingers together.

'Think that over, Neville,' Harry smiled at him as he stood up grabbing his bag. 'I have to go and eat breakfast, but I'll see you whenever I can.'

'Okay, bye Harry,' Neville nodded to him and Harry grinned at him before walking to the Slytherin table. He sat down ignoring the narrowed looks of the few Slytherins that were at the table. He knew that the Gryffindors were their enemies but he also understood something about Slytherin that non-Slytherins failed to understand, the house was all about the house. They will never leave their own to be the best, and they will never disown their house members; a Slytherin was a Slytherin.

After hearing his prefect talk about the houses Harry felt a little guilty that Hermione was in Ravenclaw, unlike in Slytherin where honour was everything; she was in Ravenclaw where it really was to each their own, they didn't mind betraying their housemates to be the best. Though he wouldn't lie that it was obvious that Slytherins would easily betray anyone who was not in their house, but that was rather minor compared to what he was coming to understand about Ravenclaw, because Slytherins believed in family. One of their key points, alongside ambition, and cunning was, after all, fraternity.

'Talking to a Gryffindor?' Pansy questioned. She, Theodore, and Blaise were the only first years that were at the table at the moment. It was still early morning, and the others seemed to all be late risers.

'Only one worth talking to,' Harry retorted before putting some eggs, bacon, peas, and toast on his plate. 'What is our first class today?'

'I heard it's potions with Gryffindor,' Blaise fixed his tie as he spoke. 'If you want to become friends with Neville I would suggest not being his partner in potions. Professor Snape will be targeting the Gryffindors, and they might blame you for him losing points.'

'If you even want to be friends with a Gryffindor that is,' Theodore added as he cut his eggs with his knife. 'I would be cautious with becoming acquainted with them, they are probably the most closed minded to inter-house relationships even a Ravenclaw would be better.' The three shared glances that clearly said that Ravenclaws were pushing it with their devious personalities.

'Even a Hufflepuff would be better,' Pansy added, Blaise was quickly nodding along to his house mates comments.

'I'll keep that in mind, but Neville is the one I care to talk to.' Harry shrugged as he put some eggs on his fork, 'the others give me no interest.'

'You think he's an asset?' Pansy questioned in disbelief, quickly catching on to what Harry meant by interest. At once the four Slytherins looked at Neville who was sitting alone at the table, fumbling with a piece of toast as he buttered it.

'Yes,' Harry nodded and turned around again to face his food, 'he just hasn't found himself yet, so it's hard to see. Abyssus abyssum invocat,' Harry stated again watching as Blaise smirked in agreement, finding truth in the statement. After all Harry wasn't the only one who grew up with latin proverbs being thrown in every other sentence.

'Alright,' Theodore sighed heavily as he stared at Neville, since he was facing that way it wasn't as obvious when he did it. 'I'll tell the others,' Harry understood immediately what that meant. Like the musketeers it was all for one, and one for all in the Slytherin house. That meant if one person thought something all the others had to know so they could weigh it for themselves. It didn't mean Neville would be accepted by the Slytherins (that would never happen) but it meant that they would watch them, and if they saw any signs of him being an asset they would treat him better. Though the same could not be said for Professor Snape. In fact, all Harry could say for Snape at this point was that he was naturally inclined to glare in whatever direction Harry was.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry trailed along with the rest of the Slytherins, a thoughtful look clouding his usually lipid green eyes. What was he going to do in Potions? He was well aware that Professor Snape was his head of house, as well as the Potions teacher. Despite being the head of house the only kind of communication Harry had with him had been accompanied with glares that was caused by the random catching of gazes. It didn't bode well with Harry that his teacher showed dislike for him immediately, there was so little known about his previous life. What could he, or his late parents, have done that would cause a teacher to dislike him so instantaneously?

'Are you ready for potions?' Pansy stuck to Harry's side as they traversed to the classroom that was in the dungeons, not that far from their common room.

'As ready as I will be, do you know why Professor Snape wouldn't like me?' Harry tilted his head so he met the eyes of the all of the Slytherins he was walking with. He didn't like drawing attention to his problems but if anybody had any insight he thought he was privy to it.

'No,' the group agreed with each other unanimously, not seeing any reason for him to dislike Harry.

'If I were you I would hope I read the textbooks,' Blaise's voice was a soft murmur from behind Harry. 'Don't give him any reason to like you less.'

'Good advice,' Theodore nodded his head as he tapped his thigh, something that was quickly becoming a noticeable habit for the young pureblooded pre-teen. 'It would be dishonorable for a Slytherin to put Professor Snape in a position where he has to deduct points from his house member.'

'Neville?' Harry frowned as he tried to remember all of the new rules he had to memorize for interacting with his house. He remembered them telling him during breakfast to leave Neville alone, and questioned whether Theodore was alluding to that comment.

'Let him flounder during the first class,' Pansy dipped her head to the side, her bobbed hair swayed with the movement, covering one of her rounded hazel eyes. 'If you join him immediately you'll look like a traitor to the rest of the house, if you help him next class after your views of him being an asset would have spread, it'll look like a strategic move.'

'Everything's a strategy with you,' Blaise scoffed as he brushed one of his dark brown bangs out of his face.

'Everything's a strategy with Slytherins,' she shot back as she lifted her nose in the air.

'Only way to survive,' Theodore put in as the four walked into the room with five minutes to spare before class. 'Harry, be my partner?' Harry nodded and followed him to a set of seats in the middle of the room

Blaise opened his mouth to say something when Pansy grabbed his bicep, and dragged him to the seat right beside Harry, 'you're with me Zabini.'

'Fine,' Blaise rolled his eyes, not looking surprised that she had been so forthcoming with him.

'So, Harry,' she smiled at him as she swiveled in her seat to face him, her knees skimming his thigh. 'Who is this mysterious mother of yours? Does she know magic?' He didn't miss the way Blaise rolled his eyes while muttering something in Italian under his breath, apparently it was normal for Pansy to be so physical, and the Italian obviously didn't like it.

Harry overtly moved a little closer to Theodore before answering the question he knew Pansy really wanted to know, 'she has practiced magic. She's more into the older stuff though,' Harry shrugged watching confused as a look of surprise crossed Pansy's face.

'Really?' Her naturally round eyes widened as she leaned closer to Harry, her tie dangling over her dark grey skirt. 'Where does she get access to her books?'

'Family,' Harry frowned as he realized that Pansy wasn't the only one that looked surprised. Blaise's eyebrows had raised approvingly, and Theodore had started frowning and looked like he was trying to analyze Harry. 'What? Is it that strange?'

'There is barely anything on the Old Magic, what little stuff there is, is either cursed or in code.' Theodore spoke slowly as if he was remembering a long past lecture, 'it's not easy to find good information, and even harder to practice it.' Harry bit his tongue, stopping himself from mentioning that he thought that it was rather easy.

'I suppose it just takes a certain type of person,' Blaise smiled, and leaned back in his seat as a steady flood of students started walking into the classroom. 'I'm sure your mother is as formidable as you say.'

'I never said she was-' Harry went silent as soon as Professor Snape swept into the room, refusing to tarnish his already bad image further. He winced in empathy as he watched Neville stumble into the room, the last student to make it in.

'Well, it appears some students have not learned how to read their schedules,' Professor Snape picked up his attendance book to the chorus of snickers from the Slytherin side of the room. 'Ten points from Gryffindor.' Without pausing his dark eyes, that were bordering on pitch black, scanned the room as he called out attendance. Harry noted how Snape seemed to stop, and glare at him when he called out his name, moving on quickly. He would definitely have to investigate it.

'You are here to learn the subtle science and the exact art of potion-making,' Snape put down his attendance list and walked around the room as he spoke in a low hush, his very countenance capable of capturing everyone's attention. 'As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with it's shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...' Harry leaned forwards as Snape talked, his eyes widening as he focused completely on his professor. 'I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.'

'He's amazing,' Harry whispered to Theodore, his voice showing his amazement. Theodore just smirked, and nodded, equally pleased with their head of house.

'Longbottom, since you were late for class I guess you think you're more prepared than the rest,' Snape's eyes narrowed, a predatory glint bringing life to them as he stared at the nervous boy. 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

'I-I don't know, sir,' Neville stuttered out as a blush coated his face.

'Clearly your arrogance was unfounded,' Snape hissed as his thin lips curled into a sneer. 'Let's try again. Longbottom, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?'

Neville gulped, his adams apple faintly visible through his plump neck before he licked his chapped lips, 'I don't know, sir.' He stared down at his desk, shaking as he tried to drown out the quiet chuckles that flowed naturally from the Slytherin side. Harry sighed, and looked around at them, if this was what every class was going to be like with Gryffindors then he didn't know what he was going to do. He had been taught that such conspicuous bullying was both bad and stupid, and it seemed his whole house was keen on doing it.

'Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Longbottom?' Snape tsked, the sound of his tongue hitting his teeth sounded almost foreboding before he opened his mouth again, 'and what, Longbottom, is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

'The-they-' Neville stopped and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

'We don't have all day Longbottom, either you know the answer or you don't,' Snape drawled.

'They are the same plant, sir. It's also called aconite,' Neville opened his eyes slowly, cowering into himself as he looked up at Snape, dreading his response.

'Well, I suppose you know _something_ useful, however, not enough to save your life if it's on the line.' Snape clasped his hands behind his back, reminding Harry of his mother. 'Asphodel and wormwood makes a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the draught of living death.' Harry immediately started scribbling down what Professor Snape was saying, although he already had it almost memorized. 'A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. And yes, as Longbottom said, monkshood and wolfsbane are indeed the same plant, and also go by the name aconite.' He paused scanning the classroom before sniffing indignantly, 'well? Why aren't you all copying that down?'

Within seconds the sound of rustling and scraping filled the room as the students grasped for their writing utensils. Harry smirked when his gaze met Blaise's who's lip curled into a small smile before his quill filled the cacophony of noises coming from the agitated students.

It seemed to Harry like the more time went on, the worse the Gryffindors had it. Snape had placed the students into pairs, Harry found himself paired with Goyle which he didn't mind because the bigger student let him tell him what to do. Neville was set together with a nice looking Gryffindor named Seamus, who, Harry was pleased to see, welcomed the nervous boy. It became apparent how biased Snape was as he continually criticized most of the students, mostly the Gryffindors, as they started creating a simple potion to cure boils. Unfortunately for Neville he had managed to dissolve Seamus' cauldron, filling the room with a disturbing smell, hissing, and oddly green gas.

'You idiot,' Snape hissed, closing his eyes as he attempted to contain his anger. 'Take him to the hospital wing,' he growled out, cleaning the mess up with a wave of his wand. Neville would most certainly need his help in the rest of their potions classes together Harry mused as he watched his injured friend get dragged out of the room.

* * *

Harry was more than relieved when potions ended, despite not being the one Snape had all his anger targeted at. He suspected that was just because he was a Slytherin and Snape couldn't show him open hostility. Slytherin honour and all. 'Do you think Neville's okay?' Harry questioned as they walked to their next class, Herbology with the Ravenclaws.

'Of course, Madame Pomfrey would have given him a potion, you'll probably see him at lunch,' Theodore was, once again, tapping his thigh as he spoke.

'He had it coming to him,' Draco scoffed as he looked away from Harry to avoid the annoyed look he knew he was going to get, 'the guy is a clutz.'

Blaise sucked in a quiet breath, attracting the attention of the others, 'I still don't get.' Blaise went silent as he stared ahead of them, 'how Neville is an asset.' His statement was met with hums of agreement from the herd of Slytherins.

'You'll see,' Harry stared at the greenhouses they were walking towards, smiling when he saw a familiar bushy head of hair. He would have said Hermione was an asset as well, but he had a feeling that wouldn't go as well as saying a pureblood was a good asset.

'Everyone line up at the tables,' Professor Sprout, a squat woman with frazzled grey hair, clapped her dirty hands together as she watched the students meander around the greenhouse aimlessly.

'You may be a Slytherin, but that doesn't mean you have the skills to survive as one,' Daphne Greengrass hissed in his ear as they made their ways to the long tables set up in the greenhouse. Harry shrugged in acknowledgment before standing at the end of the line of Slytherins, Hermione immediately stepped in beside him, being the start of the Ravenclaw line. He completely missed the frustrated look Draco shot him, or the coughing Blaise broke out into when he tried to cover his laughs.

'How's your house?' Harry questioned as he tuned out his professors introduction.

'Good, we all get along well,' Hermione smiled as she looked at Harry. 'They all leave me alone to read.'

Harry snorted in amusement before shaking his head, 'that may be getting along for you, but I call that anti-social. You should get your head out of the books from time to time.'

'Why?' Her head snapped back involuntarily, a physical sign of her surprise. 'You have something against reading?'

'Not at all,' Harry shook his head, calming himself so he wouldn't get offended by her snappy tone. 'I just think we would all benefit from your presence,' he smiled at her, fully aware that he was laying his charm on thick.

'Oh,' Hermione ducked her head embarrassed at how rude she had been.

'I would suggest reading _How to Win Friends and Influence People_ ,' his lips curled into a lopsided grin as he looked at Hermione. She scoffed, and pushed him before pausing.

'I think I saw that on my parents bookshelf, maybe I should ask them to owl it to me,' she mused ignoring the triumphant glint that was lighting up Harry's eyes.

'Maybe you should,' he went silent as Professor Sprout narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously, suspecting them of not paying attention to her lesson. By the end of the lesson Harry found a simple piece of paper within his pocket, he pulled it out and smiled when he saw a neat scrawl telling him to go to the library after supper, apparently Hermione was a sneak.

'What's that?' Harry folded the paper up again, as he met Blaises gaze.

'What are you doing after supper?' Harry asked, answering Blaise's question with one of his own.

* * *

The rest of the lessons passed by rather fast, he had enjoyed charms with Professor Flitwick, who he was confident had some goblin blood in him, the man had been very interesting and wasn't boring at all in his delivery. Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall was as he expected, she was strict, and dedicated to her work, and he also noticed, was bias towards her own house. The only thing he was dreading was Defense against the Dark Arts.

'I'm telling you! That man knows nothing!' Hermione's shrill voice was lowered to a hiss as she clenched her fists a top her book.

'Hermione,' Neville scratched the back of his head bashfully as Hermione stared at him awaiting what he was going to say, 'he's got to have something to him. Dumbledore did hire him.'

'Dumbledore also hired Trelawney,' Hermione rolled her eyes before leaning in closer to them to whisper, 'divinations is a bunch of garbage, honestly.'

'It's not garbage,' Blaise spoke up, pausing from twirling the quill that Harry was positive wasn't his. He grinned and straightened as soon as Hermione stared at him, Harry was quickly catching on that the Italian loved his theories. 'Divination is just something that cannot be taught,' he paused before frowning, 'we won't even be learning it till third year, why are you talking about it?'

'I was talking to some of the fourth year students at supper time today about the electives that would be available,' Hermione's voice was clear between the four of them, ringing with her prim tone. 'They told me that it's a bunch of rubbish.'

'My mother said to never discount prophecies,' Harry flipped the page of the book he had stopped reading ages ago. 'She never said anything about fortune telling,' he shrugged, ignoring the way that Hermione's glare focused on him as she tried to figure out exactly what he was saying.

'That's going to be your catchphrase by the end of the year,' Blaise said with a snicker before raising his hands in the air like he was drawing attention to a large banner, 'my mother said.'

'Well, if I were to have any catchphrase I suppose I would prefer that over something odd like, yehet,' Harry frowned as he repeated a strange saying he heard a teenage boy on the street say once. He shook the memory from his head before remembering potions class. 'Neville, do you want to be my partner in potions?'

Neville looked up from his own book, that he hadn't been reading either, with a grimace, 'are you sure Harry?'

'Of course, I was going to ask you today but Theodore wanted to be my partner. Then Snape assigned me to Goyle so I couldn't join up with you.' Harry smiled at his friend reassuringly before looking down at his book, and scowling as he read it for the first time, despite flipping the pages to the second chapter. 'What kind of book is this?'

'You're the one that chose it,' Hermione retorted, not bothering to check. Neville only needed to glance at the page before he started laughing.

'It's a Witch romance novel,' Neville laughed harder as Harry shoved it away from himself with a grimace. 'I never knew you liked that sort of thing, Harry.'

'I don't, I wasn't reading it,' he protested as he waved his hands in front of himself in denial. He truly wasn't, he was thinking about other stuff the whole time he was reading it, it was a habit of his. Whenever he wanted to think in silence he pretended to read, people tended to leave him alone more often when he was with a book then when he was staring into space.

'Sure, that's what they all say,' Blaise scoffed as he closed the book, and made sure it was plenty far from himself. Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled out some parchment and a self-inking quill. If he wasn't going to be productive he may as well do something enjoyable.

'What are you doing?' Neville questioned.

'Writing a letter,' Harry scrawled his greeting into the top of the letter, though what he saw as scrawl was immaculate cursive writing. 'My mother will want to know what house I am in.'

'What house did she want you to be in?' Blaise's tone was heavy with sympathy, he thought he knew what Harry was hesitant about. But unlike his thoughts, Morgana really did not have a predisposed opinion of where Harry should go, however, that didn't make Harry feel any less like he failed her.

'Any one I got in,' Harry muttered, as if it were a burden to have such freedom. His quill scratched against the parchment as he wrote a small summary of his day, making sure to mention that he had pursued a meeting with Hermione like she had wanted. 'Is there anyway to send this?'

'There are school owls,' Hermione's voice emitted from behind her book, her face not visible behind it's cover. 'What do you think is on the third floor?' She questioned as she finally lowered the book.

'There's something on the third floor,' Harry repeated contemplatively as if it was the first time he had heard that, which it was, before scratching more onto his letter. 'Is it dangerous?' He was unaware of the shocked looks his acquaintances sent him.

'The Headmaster told us to not to go near the third floor, I'm wondering what could be there.' Hermione spoke matter of factly, 'some of the older Ravenclaws were saying that they thought the Headmaster was trying his hand at creating spells so he closed the floor off.'

'Does it really matter?' Blaise questioned as he looked over Harry's shoulder to the letter. 'Unless you're going to check.'

'I wasn't planning on actually checking,' She snapped, as if horrified that he would suggest she would break the rules. 'I was seeing if anyone else had any theories,' she rolled her shoulders as if self-assured in her intelligence, and positive that no others would have wondered about it.

'Harry thinks it's something stupid and dangerous,' Blaise said as he looked at how Harry was describing the whole situation in his letter.

'The headmaster couldn't bring something dangerous into the school,' Neville spoke up against them.

'I wouldn't doubt he would,' Blaise disagreed immediately. 'My mother was saying the same as Harry's, he's not to be trusted.'

'He's the _Headmaster_ ,' Hermione scowled and dropped her book on the table.

'You can't just trust authority figures like that,' Blaise scolded her.

'He's not just an authority figure, he's a hero,' Neville disagreed instantly.

'He's a glorified hypocrite.'

'Blaise!' Hermione gasped, looking as if Blaise had offended her personally. 'Harry! Tell him he's wrong!'

Harry looked up from his paper, 'I don't involve myself in things without hearing everything.' He frowned when he realized they were staring at him with varying looks of confusion. 'What?'

'What,' Hermione paused between words, 'language are you speaking?'

'Oh,' Harry smiled sheepishly, 'sorry.' He responded in English, 'my mother taught me Gaelic.'

'Ah,' Blaise made a small grunt of acknowledgement for what Harry was saying, already connecting the language to his mother's interest in the Old Magic.

'Ah, what?' Hermione crossed her arms, looking upset that she didn't get what the hidden message was.

'The druids focused on Gaelic, and Old English rather than Latin for their magic,' Blaise rubbed the top of his head as he spoke. 'It's Old Magic stuff.'

'Now it's ancient magic,' Harry mused.

'You know Old Magic!' Neville gaped as he stared at Harry, his eyes sparkling almost adoringly.

'No,' Harry scoffed and shook his head, 'I would get in trouble if I even touched any books of the Old Religion.' He may know some interesting things but his mother really world have been upset if he had looked into it. She was always lecturing him about how volatile magic was and that he wasn't ready to master the Old Religion yet, and he wasn't about to disobey her, she hadn't been wrong with anything since he had met her. Okay, that wasn't completely true, he had been practicing a bit, but only the easy stuff.

'Old Religion?' Blaise repeated sounded confused because of the unfamiliar term as Neville's eyes brightened even more. The wizarding world called the Old Religion, Old Magic, or ancient magic. Both uses implied the Old Religion was weaker, outdated, or just not as good as current magic. But Harry was well aware that, that wasn't true.

'Your mother knows about the Old Religion?' Neville questioned. Harry opened and closed his mouth in shock before grimacing. He was going to let everything be known if things continued that way. He really had to learn how to hold his tongue.

'What do you know about the Old Magic?' Blaise's eyes lit up with interest, eager to continue on the topic.

'They were more involved with plants than any other magic I heard of.' Neville spoke up, his eyes bright with passion. 'I managed to find a book on it, they created most of the cultivating spells we know.'

'You found a book on the Old Religion?' Blaise repeated after him in shock, catching on that it was just another term for Old Magic. Which it wasn't, but, for the ignorant it may as well have been the same. Really, the Old Magic was used to describe the magic, and use of it that was connected to the Old Religion, and the Old Religion was the culture of magic. But Harry decided not to lecture them, instead he indulged Neville on what he knew of vegetation related spells

'The Old Religion is really a big deal for you guys,' Hermione had long since pushed her book away, and was getting caught up in the excitement bubbling between the two boys. Harry was leaning back in his chair as removed possible. He didn't want to catch their attention again, he had only just gotten out of their attention.

'Big deal! Of course it is!' Neville exclaimed, temporarily breaking out of his shell as he started telling Hermione about the Old Magic, Blaise jumping in eagerly wherever he could. Harry smiled, listening to his fellow students talk as he finished his letter. He wondered if his mother was going to think he was doing well, he hoped he was making her proud.

* * *

 

 

Harry closed his eyes listening to the sound of rustling robes as his new teacher swept past the students, making his way to the front of the class. 'Welcome to defense against the dark arts, I am P-professor Quirrell.' Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched his teacher look at the staring students with a jittery paranoia. He wasn't slow to admit that he was coming into the class skeptical after Neville and Hermione's adverse reactions to it. So far all he saw was a nervous man who had a habit of stuttering.

'H-hello p-proffessor, I'm D-Draco M-Malfoy,' Draco mocked the teacher, grinning as his fellow Slytherins laughed.

'R-right, Mr. Malfoy, that is enough.' Quirrell's face reddened as his jaw clenched. Lying, Harry thought to himself, this man is lying. Of course the man had not yet opened his mouth about anything of importance so he hadn't really lied at all, but there was always a strange dissonance with liars. The same was true with the professor, there was an almost tangible feeling of _wrongness_ about him. So Harry made the purely emotional decision that the man was lying, he didn't know why, or what about, but he didn't doubt his ability to prove his feeling right.

'This class is to be taken seriously,' as he started to speak Harry could almost see a switch flicked in the man's countenance. 'The world is full of numerous dangerous, of which none of you are prepared for. It is my job to prepare you.' Quirrell waved his hands as he spoke. He acted as if he was a great orator and the front of the class was rather the front of a group of followers. 'My time in Albania taught me a great many things, one of those is that one is never too prepared. Another was on the fickle characteristics of human beings.' His words were smooth and enticing, distracting the students from the fact that he had yet to stutter since he started his speech. 'Without proper _enlightening_ you will all die.' Quirrell's blunt words sent the students rigid, as if they were appalled that any teacher would be so straight with them.

Harry frowned as he watched his teacher walk to the front of his desk, he couldn't see a single reason as to why the man wasn't a good teacher. He didn't see anything appalling like what Hermione had said.

'It is likely you didn't know this, but I used to teach muggle studies. One thing muggles are good at is doing nothing, in the form of philosophy. Muggles love twisting everything that is known into an obscene reality, all so that they don't have to do work or that they can get out of trouble by calling it human nature. One of the most commonly used portions of philosophy lies within their moral questions. Such as this,' Quirrell waved his wand and the chalkboard flipped to reveal a question written out. 'Each of you will write down on the piece of paper in front of you a, or b. Then we will compare your answers, don't worry, this will remain anonymous.'

_Say you worked in the department of Mysteries, you were a very high ranking worker and you were scheduled to arrive in a room for an important meeting you were conducting. That meeting will take one week and while it is occurring you cannot leave. Also, the door will be unopenable after a certain time, if you miss this meeting you will lose your job._

_You're just about to enter the room and you realise that you locked your house elf in a room as punishment, if you don't apparate back to your house and get it out then your house elf will_ _ die _ _. You also cannot call your house-elf away from that room, as it is protected against all forms of magic. However, there is no time to apparate back to your house and get to the room in time, you either save your house elf and lose your job, or let your house elf die and keep your high ranking job. Do you-_

_A) Let the house elf die and keep your job, or-_

_B) Apparate back to your house to save your elf and lose your job_

Harry stared at the question quickly recognising it, he had remembered hearing some bored university students at the train station talking about it and it's fallacies. He couldn't for the life of him remember what they were, or even what a fallacy was, he just knew that it was unfair of the teacher to impress such things upon kids their age. He warily picked up his quill and stared at the board. He wanted to write a, he always believed in not failing others. Gritting his teeth he scratched the letter b into his paper, his mother told him that their lives were for the interest of magical creatures, no matter their status. What was the use of honour if he would let innocent magical creatures die?

After a few minutes the teacher waved his wand and all of the papers flew to the board, out of the ten Slytherins, only three sheets were on b. Harry looked sick as a look of approval became clear on Professor Quirrell's face, 'it seems that this year, the Slytherins show the most promise. Now, I won't ask who those three people were, but they are wrong. There is nothing more important than keeping your job. The house elf is worthless, your job is important, a worker at the department of mysteries? You will do so much more if you give yourself the chance, that chance doesn't involve ruining your chances for prosperity. As the great Morgan le Faye once said, we are only as powerful as the face we show.'

It was as if those words summoned a demon, that was the only thing that could explain what happened next, Harry shot up, his seat screeching across the stone floor as his palms slammed against the table. He felt an annoying hot itch in his collar, he roughly tugged his tie away from his neck, trying to ease the burning heat. Not only was his mother's honour in question as one of her quotes was being used against her ideals but this teacher was botching everything he knew.

'Is there something you wish to say? Mr. _Potter_.' A quiet snarl curled Harry's lips, he knew that the teacher was using the wrong name on purpose, everyone knew he preferred Pendragon.

'My _mother_ once told me that the age of gallantry seems to dead. You look around and all you see are small men, not big enough to fill their armour. There's not one of them that's able to stand for what is right. Is that what we are encouraging?' Harry pointed at the seven papers by the letter a, 'is our society encouraging _fools_ that can't handle responsibility? Real honour does not come from letting our kind die.' He knew that he was being a fool himself, he knew that the right thing to do would be to shut his mouth and pretend nothing had happened but he was so _infuriated_. The looks of repulsion on his fellow students faces only propelled him further into his passion.

'We may not be the same species, but we are of the same kind, magic connects all of us. Magic is the essence which binds all things together. It will last long beyond the time of men,' his words seemed to call the old magic to attention. He could feel it, the very essence of it swelling within the walls of the castle, easing his speeding mind so he could think logically rather than emotionally.

'Mr. Potter-'

'Pendragon,' Harry felt the small tremors of his body stopping as the old magic flowed over him, it felt as if a hand was running down his body and as it passed over him his body relaxed and gained it's strength.

'Pendragon,' Quirrell drawled looking quite annoyed, 'are you sure you got sorted into the right house? Even the Gryffindors weren't that _physical_ in their actions.'

'I suppose it's not something you would understand professor, the passion of the old-' he caught himself before he said the old religion. 'The spirit of magic is not something you can learn. Either it's a part of you or it isn't.' Harry's words sparked an indignant spark in his teacher's eyes. 'You are a mere wizard, one who doesn't understand the true scope of the magic that binds us all. If we betray our own kind, the others that also hold the flame of magic, then hell be upon us! The revenge evoked by magic because of the betrayal of your kind will not be nearly as merciful as your delusions of hell.'

The class fell into silence as the teacher stared at him in anger and his fellow students stared at him in shock. 'Also, _Professor_ ,' he spoke the title with disdain, making it clear what he thought of Quirrell's status. 'Righteous anger is not something limited to Gryffindors, if you truly believe such a thing then you are not nearly as wise as you should be. I am to the core a Slytherin, I would not be in the house otherwise. I would suggest you check what you say before you speak, lest you sully the honour of a man who is much stronger and smarter than I am.' Harry grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, 'I would like to excuse myself before I say anything more, I don't trust my control right now.'

Professor Quirrell merely nodded his head, he seemed to have lost his previous persona and was once again the timid fool he was at the beginning of the class, 'goodbye, Mr. Pendragon, I h-hope to see you at my next class.'

Harry merely grunted in acknowledgement before he left the room, ignoring the looks on his fellow students faces. He had a feeling that whatever he had just done was going to completely change the way his fellow Slytherins saw him, he had no idea if that would be a good thing or not.

* * *

'Harry, do you have idea what you've just done? Look, mate, I know we've only known each other for a few days but unfortunately I feel responsible for you.' Blaise pinched the ridge of his nose, trying to ease the annoying pressure that was pressing on his stress tolerance. 'Merlin's beard, Harry, nobody is going to look at you the same anymore. Whether you like it or not you're the face of Slytherin.'

'Pardon?' Harry frowned and scanned the halls before Blaise shoved him into an alcove behind a cloth portrait, following in after him.

'Look, you may not realize this but you really were not sneaky at all, everyone in the class knows you were talking about the Old Religion, the old magic. And you know what else?' Blaise breathed in heavily, he couldn't believe what he was saying. If Harry was as lost as he seemed then he should just leave the poor boy alone but he felt an obligation, as if the kid was his younger brother. 'When each of the kids came here they had an idea of who you were, the so called good guys believed you were the new force of light and the so called bad guys thought you might be the next dark lord. Good job, because you've just proved that each side is right.'

'How could I-' Harry went silent and grimaced as he realized what Blaise was saying. By professing his knowledge of the Old Religion, which Morgan Le Faye was a known priestess of, he proved to the dark followers that he was a dark lord in training and by encouraging the protection of honour and house elves he showed the mercy and passion needed for the new leader of light. 'I should have kept my mouth shut.'

'Yeah, you should have,' Blaise nodded morosely before his nose flared in agitation. 'The Headmaster wants to see you as well, no doubt what happened has already reached his ears.'

'Class _just_ ended,' Harry spoke in disbelief.

'Don't question it, I'm supposed to take you to him.'

'Really?'

'No, Professor McGonagall was but I figured I should, after all I found you first,' Blaise grinned at him weakly before pushing the cloth to the side so Harry could walk out. 'Look, Pendragon, because I feel obligated to help you, I'll be your advisor in all things social. You're going to need it.'

'Advisor?' Harry's green eyes narrowed into suspicious slits as he scanned Blaise, trying to determine if there was any malintent behind his words.

'You've got a good hand on the first rule,' Blaise said with an approving nod.

'Which is?'

'Be suspicious of everyone and everything, never take anything for face value. But now you need to master rule two, don't let your suspicions show.'

'Seriously?' Harry sighed heavily as they stopped in front of a large statue.

'Yeah, so, I don't know the password….' Blaise shrugged before clasping his hand on Harry's shoulder. 'I wish you luck, remember rules one and two.' He walked off leaving Harry alone in front of the headmaster's office.

Harry frowned at him. 'Some advisor,' he said, rolling his eyes he looked at the statue. Without warning it rolled away revealing a winding staircase. Without an ounce of surprise Harry walked up the steps, momentarily reminiscing of their escalator like abilities as they wound up the wall as he walked.

'Ah, Harry, m'boy, I'm glad that you made it to my office alright,' Harry stepped into the office, looking around the room that was filled with portraits of previous headmasters and odd gadgets.

'Hello, Headmaster,' Harry's curious gaze stopped on the Headmaster that was watching him with knowing twinkling blue eyes. The knowing look in his eyes curdled Harry's stomach because of the immense disgust that filled him, the man had the same wrong aura that Quirrell did.

'Please sit,' Harry sat where he was bidden, 'lemon drop?' He shook his head refusing the lemon drops, suspicion was the key to survival and apparently the first rule of Slytherin. 'Now, Mr. Potter.'

'Pendragon,' Harry immediately cut in, smiling pleasantly at the shocked look that crossed two faces instantly, both the current headmaster, and the portrait of the first headmaster of Hogwarts.

'I believe the transcript said Potter-Pendragon,' Dumbledore smiled back, the happy sparkle in his eye seemed to only grow.

'So it did.' Harry nodded before folding his hands in his lap. 'What was it you wished to speak to me about Headmaster?'

'Please, call me Albus,' the more Dumbledore saw of Harry the more worried he became. The boy had been raised by unknown guardians, and whoever raised him made him seem so much like Tom Riddle it was terrifying. If only the boy had been put in Gryffindor, perhaps he could have been redeemed. No, Dumbledore mentally scolded himself, they couldn't afford to lose the-boy-who-lived to the other side, he would manage to help the boy, he always had a plan. It couldn't be too hard, he had heard of what had happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts. 'Harry, that was an admirable thing you did in class today, standing up for what you believe.'

'It was not admirable, it was immature,' Harry denied immediately, paling slightly as he thought of what his mother's reaction would be when she got his letter. He was already ruining all secrecy they had planned. After following her around so long it was as if he was lost without her, losing all restraints and logical thoughts, submerged in self-doubt and fear. What if he couldn't be as great as her? What if he revealed everything? What if he died because of his immaturity?

'Harry, why are you upset? Will your guardian not take kindly to your exploits?' Harry avoided Dumbledore's gaze as he looked at the portrait of the first headmaster, he knew what the adult was insinuating, that his mother abused him.

'The only one who doesn't take kindly to my exploits is me, Headmaster.' Harry only looked away from the portrait when the man inside nodded to Harry, silently ensuring that the Pendragon lineage would remain a secret. Any other day he would think about how the portrait that only _appeared_ sentient knew what his look was for, but he was much too frazzled to even consider it.

'Harry, it's _Albus_ ,' Dumbledore pressed again.

'Sir, I believe it's a disrespect to us both if I call you by your first name. We are nowhere on the same level and we have absolutely no connection to each other.'

'We do, I was the one who found you the night your parents died.'

'Then you would know who set me with the Dursleys? Because I can assure you that was not a good decision, if my mother had not saved me from them then I fear for the kind of fool I would be today.' His wording was good, Harry was pleased of it. He didn't insinuate that he thought the Headmaster made the decision but at the same time he was scolding his superior, making it obvious that he disagreed.

'Your mother saved you? How?' Dumbledore inquired, wanting to find out as much as he could about the boys surrogate parent.

'Magic,' Harry retorted sarcastically, now this whole situation seemed implausible to both of the males in the room. Harry was acting so unbelievably teenager like that Dumbledore felt the need to panic. It was not natural for an eleven year old to act as Harry was, there was something so detrimentally wrong with the situation and he couldn't fathom what could have caused the boy to mature so quickly. Harry, however, was appalled with his actions, it was as if he lost all restraints. With one outburst in class he just became tired with how careful he was being with everything and was filled with the stubborn want to go against everyone and everything. Especially since he just found out that he was now a focal person for each side of the battle, it just seemed unrealistic, like a videogame or something, not reality. Next thing he knew he would amass a load of guardians and find out he was destined to be the boss of a famous mafia group.


	6. Chapter 6

' _Harry.' Morgana frowned at the young boy as he fidgeted in place, 'you must concentrate.'_

' _I_ am _concentrating,' he whined, folding his scrawny arms over his chest._

' _No, you're not.' She sighed and closed her eyes, reminding herself that she was dealing with a child and not an adult. 'Harry, what can you tell me about the people we watched earlier today.' Harry frowned, his small lips forming a pout as he focused on a memory of the martial arts tournament they went to._

' _They fought,' he mused softly before he straightened, his green eyes glistening with excitement. 'It was so cool! They were like bam! Boom! Pow! Just like real live superheroes!'_

' _Harry!' She snapped, instantly he looked abashed and twiddled his fingers._

' _Sorry.'_

' _Harry,' Morgana's tone was softer the second time as she ran her long fingers through his scruffy hair. 'What can you tell me about the people who lost? I know you noticed, you're a very perceptive boy.'_

' _They,' his small face scrunched up in utmost focus before he looked at her cautiously. 'They were angry?'_

' _Precisely,' she nodded before smiling at him in delight. 'I knew you would figure it out.' Harry beamed at her taking the compliment and incorporating it into his good mood. 'Without concentration people become angry, when they are angry they don't think straight and make mistakes. That's why we are learning meditation, you are quick to fight, as they were.'_

' _So are you,' he whined, pouting more than previously. Morgana sighed heavily and nodded, mentally scolding herself, she did have an explosive temper. She tried to keep it in around him but it seemed he noticed far more than she thought._

' _I know, that is why I am meditating with you.' She placed her fingers in his hair and looked him in his eyes. 'Harry, please focus on this. It is imperative that you control your temper.'_

' _Okay, I will.' He smiled at her then squeezed his eyes shut. Harry grinned when he heard his mother laugh._

' _No, Harry, you need to relax.' Harry opened his eyes to look at her, laughing as well. 'Close your eyes and calm yourself.'_

' _Ohm.' He started making the strange sounds he had heard on tv that went along with meditation, wincing as she gripped his hair. She wasn't violent, but it wasn't pleasant either. 'What?' He whined out._

' _Harry, meditation isn't about making sounds.' Morgana sighed, her light blue eyes a mix of distress and amusement, she was fighting with feeling amused with the boys eccentricities and annoyed with his failings. He's still learning, she mentally reprimanded herself. 'It's about focusing on life, it's not about you, it's about the world. It's about feeling the connections of everything, it's about feeling the old magic.'_

' _I don't get it.'_

' _Close your eyes,' she repeated what she had said for the n_ _th_ _time that day. 'Don't bother about your breathing, rather think about what happened today, what was good that happened? What was bad? How could you have dealt with it better?'_

' _Margie stole my pencil today, that was bad. I wish she would have asked.'_

' _Not out loud, in your head.' Morgana poked his forehead. 'Think about what could have been different, don't admonish yourself.'_

' _What does admonish mean?'_

' _Scold.' She answered blandly as she remembered, once again, that she was speaking to a nine year old and not an adult. 'Now try, it'll help you keep calm and not get angry.'_

Harry groaned quietly as he flipped the page to his transfiguration textbook. As always after he embarrassed himself, he remembered his mother teaching him to _not_ do what he had just done. Come to think of it he hadn't meditated for at least two weeks, his mother stopped checking in on him a year ago, apparently that was a bad idea.

Adjusting his position again he closed his eyes and breathed steadily, attempting to meditate. The past two weeks had been the most stressful in his whole life. His mother had gone into a frenzy getting him ready for school, not voicing half of the things she thought would go wrong. And he had spent the whole time stressing himself into oblivion. Apparently he let his stress get the best of him, he wasn't about to write a letter to his mother about how much was her fault, mostly because that was stupid, but also because it was rude and wrong. It wasn't, after all, her fault that he let himself get lost in his emotions. No matter what excuses he thought up the only thing that was her fault was the fact that she lost her temper in front of him, and she always spent the rest of the time after teaching him that losing his temper was bad, while she taught him ways to control his temper. What was there to be stressed about anyways?

He could feel himself getting lost in his mind as he meditated, why was he agitated? Because he was scared of losing? No, that wasn't right, he disagreed with himself. He was scared of not fitting in, of failing his mother by letting everyone know who she was, and of not being as amazing as her. He instantly caught the connection between most of the points, they were about failing his mother. Why didn't he want to fail her? He didn't want to disappoint her, his reasons were all centered around _him._

Harry breathed out as he accepted the reasons for his stress, his anxiety, he was focused on himself in a way that was unhealthy. It was unhealthy because the centers of his thoughts were causing him pain. So then, what would be an apt thing to replace those anxieties? What could he focus on that would bring him prosperity rather than pain? If he were a Christian he would say God, if he were a philosopher he might saw life, if he was a Buddhist it's well _nothing_ , but he was a wizard, so he thought of magic.

Tilting his head Harry started feeling the familiar pressure that had building up for the past week, he was unimpressed that after such a short period of time the feeling was overwhelming him. It didn't take him long to realize that the thing was old magic. He had never been around such a large concentration of old magic before so it was overwhelming him, he was weak! No, he forced such negative thoughts out of his mind, he was inexperienced. Breathing out calmly he let the old magic swell and flow through him. Taking the time to accept it was lessening the pressure, relaxing his tense body.

'Harry!' Harry's state of serenity was broken by Theodore's exuberant cry. 'Sorry,' the newcomer backed away at the cold, annoyed look that was evident in Harry's face. The look on Harry's face was so _Morgana_ that anybody who saw it would be fearful, even Dumbledore himself. Thankfully Dumbledore was not in the room or else he would have drawn the dreadfully incorrect assumption that Harry was evil. Which he wasn't, Morgana didn't want an evil son, she wanted her magic back, that wouldn't come with an evil son so, therefore, she didn't teach him to be evil. Bad temper, however? She had taught him that, no matter how unwillingly.

'It's.' Sighing he closed his eyes. 'Okay. What's going on?' Harry smiled at Theodore who cautiously walked to his bed that was one over from Harry's.

'Well, I wanted to see how you were doing after DADA.'

'Ah.' Harry frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffing the most scruffy part. 'I apologise for that, I was stressed about school and let that get the better of me.'

'It's alright,' Theodore said as he nodded slowly, analyzing Harry, trying to determine the truth of the statement.

'Theo!' Blaise entered the room and hopped on his bed, that was in between the two males. 'That's where you went to!"

'Blaise.' Harry caught the annoyed look that flashed across Thedore's face as his interrogation time got interrupted.

'As I said, I'm Harry's advisor so you can't speak to him without me.'

'That's crazy, why do you need to be in the room?' Theodore complained.

'Harry is unlearned in the art of court speech,' Blaise started off dramatically.

'I like to imagine I know how to speak to a court,' Harry tilted his head as his green eyes sharpened destroying the innocent appearance he was gaining with the tilt of his head. The look was almost a direct mimicry of his mothers when she was challenging someone.

'I like to imagine you can too,' Blaise chirped before grinning at Harry, if only so he didn't have to worry about whether or not him being alone would cause the Slytherin house to implode.

'Blaise,' Theodore spoke slowly as he stared at Blaise's fingers. Harry followed his gaze to see Blaise was playing with a black quill. 'That's not yours.'

'This?' Blaise looked down at his quill, tilting it to either side before shrugging. 'So it isn't, I could have sworn it was mine, I have one just like it.'

'No, you don't.' Theodore rolled his eyes before looking at Harry. 'I would think twice before letting him be your advisor, he's got nimble fingers that one. You'll find more things in his possession then knowledge he can give you.'

'Kleptomaniac?' Harry perked up suddenly interested in Blaises strange habits.

'I don't steal, I mistake things as mine,' Blaise looked at the quill, 'I may as well keep it. I have no idea who's it even is. Right, Harry, I forget to tell you, I have an owl you can borrow if you like. It's in the tower, it's the black barn owl. The only one of three in Great Britain, they are very rare.' He spoke proudly, grinning at his show of wealth.

'I would imagine.' Harry stood up and grabbed his letter. 'They would all have been killed by their parents after all, just for being different.' He swept out of the room leaving the two other Slytherins behind in discomfort. Harry's tone was bitter, filled with anger towards Morgana's early life. This world was no different from the animal kingdom, those who were different were exterminated.

* * *

Harry's eyebrows rose as a white owl swooped down to their table at breakfast, it stopped in front of him and stuck out it's leg, a letter strapped to it. 'Hello,' he said as he untied the letter and scanned its contents batting the owl away as it tried to bite his nose. His eyes narrowed and he picked up a piece of bacon absently giving it to the owl.

'Who's owl is that?' Pansy questioned as she frowned at it, not recognizing it.

'Mine, apparently,' Harry mused as he ate his toast, he stuffed the letter into his bag after reading the first line on the front that identified the owl as his. There was no reason for them to see the letter too, it was between him and his mother. Plus, he wasn't sure if she was going be upset with him for losing his temper in class, he would prefer not to read that in front of his housemates either. Sighing at the burdens that hiding a parents identity caused him, he went back to eating breakfast. His owl, apparently, was content to lounge on the table ruffling her white feathers from time to time.

'Can you at least send her away?' Daphne raised a slender eyebrow at the bird that stared back at her with haughty amber eyes. 'Animals shouldn't be at the table.'

'Hedwig,' Harry watched as the owl looked at him with an almost superior glint in her eyes. 'I'm sure there's a roost for you.' He watched with an amused smile as she shook her body, a look of annoyance implanted on her face. It was really no surprise that Morgana bought an animal with attitude. Clicking in retort the owl flew away, leaving Harry with the impression that if he knew how to speak owl, he would be offended.

'You know, I knew someone else with a haughty bird.' The students at the Slytherin table watched the Bloody Baron as he floated behind Pansy. The older years were frankly quite curious and were analysing the first years, the Bloody Baron barely ever wasted his time on the students, but since the new batch of hatchlings he had been spouting random bitter statements. 'But of course it was a _raven_ and it's mistress was quite sure to make sport with it.' The Bloody Baron drifted away after, oblivious to the spark that lit up in Draco Malfoys eyes.

'I think he's talking about Morgan Le Faye.' Draco smirked, as he ran his hand on the top of his head, making sure his platinum blond hair was still slicked down.

'Why do you think he's going on about her?' Pansy's eyes widened as she leaned towards Draco, stroking his already over inflated ego.

'Maybe he see promise in this years batch of hatchlings.' One the sixth years years sneered at the younglings as his friends laughed at the very idea that the first years had the power of Morgan Le Faye.

'Lay off them Cap.' A Slytherin across from him stared at him with lazy blue eyes before he looked at the hatchlings with a smirk. 'At least until we're alone.'

'Tch.' The sixth year rolled his grey eyes before snarling at the first years making his, rather abnormally large, crooked teeth stand out.

'That's Marcus Flint,' Blaise whispered to Harry, as he looked at the sixth year. 'He's the captain of the quidditch team, the guy who told him off is a fourth year, Lucien Boyle. He's aiming for the spot of beater this year so he's been showing off his confidence since he saw Flint. Only way Flint'll take a weakling is if they bribe him, not unheard of in our house, otherwise people show off,' Blaise shrugged looking impartial to the moral challenges in Slytherin.

'How do you know all this?' Harry frowned going red in his face as Tracey Davis smirked at him.

'How do we not? It's our job to know, you're going to fall behind if you keep being so oblivious.' Tracey said, still holding a rather nasty attitude towards him. He hadn't decided if that was just her, or if he had somehow personally offended her.

'Fall behind.' Millicent echoed before snickering.

'And you said you know court lingo, you got a lot to learn kiddo.' Blaise ruffled Harry's hair making the younger boy scowl and fix it quickly.

'We're the same age.' Harry shot back, annoyed with the lack of acknowledgment Blaise was giving him.

'Potter!' Harry looked behind him, frowning when he saw the scowling sixth year. He wisely kept his mouth shut instead of retorting that he went by Pendragon. 'You better practice hard this year!'

'Practice?' Harry leaned away from the older teen, completely confused.

'Your father got a lot of trophies for _Gryffindor,_ ' cue sneer, Harry was actually surprised when the boy didn't spit in distaste for the other house, 'when he was in school. You better do the same for us or I'll skin you myself,' Flint jabbed his finger into Harry's chest before walking away, Boyle following after him. Harry fixed his shirt with a look of annoyance, glaring at his italian _advisor_ who had started laughing instead of helping him. By the way some of the upper years were smirking, that was Flint's normal way of recruiting quidditch players.

'You better practice, Flints got his eyes on you. Apparently Wood has some new talent with the Weasley twins taking up beater positions this year, nobody wants to see Flint lose to that ponce.' Theodore spoke for Blaise who merely nodded in agreement.

'Slytherin hasn't lost the house cup since Flint became captain.' Blaise chirped looking far too pleased with Harry's current predicament.

'Great.' The young Pendragon muttered looking so much like Merlin after Arthur dumped his armour in the young manservants arms that if Morgana had seen him, she would have had a heart attack and banned Harry from being upset again. Because yes, his mother did have a habit of banning impossible things.

'It's not that bad,' Draco scowled at the group before straightening his shoulders with pride. ' _I'm_ going to be the seeker next year. _I_ would be honoured if Flint was already scouting me.'

'Yeah, how much is your father going to pay?' Daphne retorted, despite it only being a few days Harry was actually seeing a lot of the culture that was the Slytherin house. He knew that the Malfoys, Goyles, Parkinsons, Bulstrodes, Notts, and Crabbes were hardcore dark families. Whereas the Zabini's, Davis', and Greengrass' were neutral. However, where Blaise and Tracey were just neutral and were treated like dark families, or rather with respect, Daphne was more outcasted because of her harsh tongue. She was either the center of the group or the outside, it depended who her focus was on.

'What? Are you turning into a Gryffindor on us?' Pansy snapped before lifting her smushed nose in the air arrogantly.

'No, I was asking a _question_.' It was well known throughout the Slytherin house of the ferocity the two girls had for each other, they were rivals. 'Or is that too hard for your tiny brain to comprehend.'

'Well, we're going now!' Blaise stood up and dragged Harry after him, making it obvious that he wanted to keep away from the building tension. 'Keep it in house guys, don't forget!' He waved goodbye to the table with a cheeky smile.

'Was that really necessary?' Harry smoothed out his sleeves after Blaise let him go, frowning with the Blaises physical nature. The longer he knew the Italian the more apprehensive he become, the Italian was practically a skinship monster. Blaise took every moment he could to be touching him and Neville. If they sat beside each other Blaise might sit close so they were touching, or he'd grab Harry's arm, or sling his arm around Neville's shoulder. Plus, that quiet wisdom personality he thought Blaise had, had yet to make itself known. Apparently, he had the wrong read on the guy.

'You haven't seen those two get at it.' Blaise rolled his eyes looking every bit the eldest of the first year Slytherins. 'I usually have to break them up, it gets annoying after awhile. Hey, look, there's the blood traitor and mudblood,' Blaise said flippantly before walking over to Neville and Hermione. Harry's mouth fell open as he gaped after the older boy, he had no idea whether Blaise was being rude or making fun of dark families views on wizards. In fact, he had absolutely no idea what to think of Blaise at all. Perhaps it was part of being a wizard, being completely and utterly confusing.

Shaking his head Harry followed after Blaise, smiling at Hermione and Neville weakly, hoping with all his being that they hadn't heard what the Italian said about them, 'morning.'

'Morning Harry.' Hermione smiled at him before casting an anxious look at the Gryffindors that were staring the the quartet with dark expressions. 'Don't look now but I don't your house isn't happy with us.'

'Don't I know it,' Neville moaned as he stared longingly at the Hufflepuff table. 'I wish the hat had just sorted me where I wanted.'

'You're meant to be a Gryffindor Neville, that's why you're there.' Blaise slung his arm around the young lion's shoulders grinning cheekily at the fuming lion cubs that were watching. Of course the Slytherins watching had calculated glares focused on the four as well, it had after all gotten around that Neville was useful in _some_ way, and whether they believed it or not didn't matter. But the two hatchlings were with a mudblood as well, that just wasn't approved of.

'With that kind of stupid confidence I'd think you would be a lion too.' Hermione frowned at the Slytherin table with a prim glint of disapproval in her brown eyes.

'Sadly, I'm stuck with him,' Harry grumbled as he walked towards their next class.

'I wouldn't mind being stuck with him,' Neville smiled weakly at Blaise. The four had met a couple of times over the past week and the young Longbottom scion was starting to see Blaise as some kind of hero and was sticking to him, trying to learn confidence through the crafty snake.

'I know.' Blaise smirked at the younger boy before scowling at Harry. ' _H_ _e_ wouldn't mind being stuck with me.'

'Yeah, and?' Harry questioned with a light tone, clearly not taking Blaise seriously.

'What about you, Hermione. You, me, together,' Blaise grinned at the young Ravenclaw before winking, mimicking the older years he had seen interacting with some girls. He was not a casanova at all, but everyone knew that if he was given a few years to grow into his body then he would be breaking hearts left, right, and center, a modern Don Juan.

'Please.' Scoffing Hermione walked faster to catch up with Harry. It was strange what being thrown into a new place did to people, because despite only knowing each other for a week the four were already treating each other like they had known everyone for years. Harry supposed that's what his mother had meant about being careful about who you choose, because once a bond is formed it'll be hard to break. He just hoped he made the right choice in companions.

* * *

 

Harry lifted his mother's letter up, his eyes narrowed in the dim light. He truly missed electricity, as he sighed the candlelight flickered, brightening. A smirk worked it's way onto his face as he glanced at it with approval before looking back at the letter. His previous letter from his mother spoke only of her praise for his selection of house, the one after affirmed his selection in friends, this current one, however, started with pleasantries and worked into soldering. Temper not befitting of a noble, severe lacking of decorum, Harry was visually wilted as the words stood out to him from the page.

'What's wrong with you?' Harry lowered his letter only to see bright platinum blonde hair filling his vision. As if Draco hadn't spoken to him, Harry lifted his letter again. 'I don't think you're making a good decision with friends. The blood traitor and mudblood? I can show you who your true friends are.' Draco wisely kept his mouth shut about Blaise, seeing as that was the only person he deemed acceptable.

'How do you determine the true virtue of people?' Harry folded up his letter placing it in his bag, the scoldings of his mothers echoing in his mind, reminding him to be careful how he acted. 'I don't doubt you have the capability to choose the proper people to crowd with, I am unsure of how I fit into it, we are not on the same social tier.'

Draco went silent running through Harry's words before deciding that Harry was implying that he was below Draco, in which Harry meant the exact opposite. 'Keep my words in mind, before you lose all of the status you think you have.' Draco said as he stood up then left the library, no doubt looking to cause trouble.

'Obviously you know who the right people are.' Harry watched as the youngest Weasley boy dropped down into the sat opposite Harry, looking a touch uncomfortable. No doubt because Harry was indeed a Slytherin, but the whole boy-who-lived nonsense seemed to be enough to make the lion cub forget the house of the person he was talking to.

'Do I?' Harry was honestly surprised that Ron hadn't run in guns blazing.

'Of course! You would never side with those disgusting snakes! Zabini's obviously hanging off you so that he can taint your mind. It'd be much better if you were in Gryffindor rather than with those future dark wizards.' And there it was, the blatant prejudism that had made Harry unsure of communicating with him.

'It's funny there was quite a large amount of dark wizards in Gryffindor. Like Ethelred the Ever-Ready, Raczidian, and Merwyn the Malicious. In fact every Hogwarts house has contained at least one dark wizard. For you to call them future death eaters because of the last twenty years of people then you are severely ignorant. The world is in fact not black and white, that is the mindset of a child. The world is overcome by grey, Mr. Weasley. So, therefore, I take offense with how you accuse my friend Blaise of being an evil wizard.' Harry spouted off names that he hadn't known he had memorised of evil people that had, indeed, been in Gryffindor.

Ron went silent running through what Harry had said before going red, looking upset. 'Look at what they have done to you! You're already becoming confused! We need to get you away from them!'

'Pardon?' Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Ron started going on a tangent about how he was being corrupted by the snakes and how he didn't know what he was saying. He didn't understand why that had activated a passionate tirade from the young ginger in front of him.

'Don't worry, mate, I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you don't get confused by those stupid snakes!' Ron looked like he was about to fist bump the air in his excitement. 'You can still be great! You just need to surround yourself with the right people.'

'Who are not the right people?' Harry rested his chin on his palm, watching with lidded eyes as Ron brightened, looking excited that the great Harry Potter was listening to him, when really, Harry Pendragon was indulging him. He found it quite interesting that despite not liking each other, both Ron and Draco were coming at him with the exact same pitch.

'Blaise Zabini, and that, that know it all, Granger.' Ron huffed as he crossed his arms. 'She always helps Neville with his homework but never spares a glance to the rest of us.'

'I don't suppose it's your temperament that has kept her from helping you. I have known Hermione for quite a while and she has seemed to help people who need it.' Harry didn't mention how she was, in fact, quite good at sounding derogatory and patronizing. It was something that the trio had determined to weed out of her. Well, Harry and Blaise had decided on, Neville just followed along still not self-assured enough to make his own plans. The duo were planted on fixing that as well. Sometimes it seemed more like Hermione and Neville were Harry and Blaises pet projects, but no doubt everything would work out and that feeling would leave. Eventually.

'Of course not, she's an annoying braggart that can't keep her stupid controlling thoughts to herself!'

'You're wrong.' Harry said as he stood up and ran his hand through his hair. He felt great injustice towards Hermione with what Ron was saying, but the fiery passion of loyalty wasn't what was guiding him. It was purely justice, his view of right and wrong. He believed it was wrong to be so harsh to someone who was still learning. However, Ron was also still learning, so Harry knew he shouldn't be too rude. But, of course, Harry was also young so he wasn't about to purposefully take the moral high road, especially not when he would be excused for any stupidity.

'I'm wrong?'

'Yes, Hermione is not who you think she is.' Harry tilted his head so he was looking at Ron, a lopsided grin curling at his lips. 'And the friends I have chosen are good, perhaps not as great as you would like, but they are all good people.'

'A know it all, a coward, and a slimy snake, I don't see the good in that.' Harry walked away, ignoring Ron's comment. He would get his just deserts if he kept acting the way he was, and who was Harry to stand in the way?

* * *

Morgana closed her eyes and breathed slowly, calming her nervousness. She had done the ceremony countless other times and every time she had failed. Her head fell down as if all muscles has been cut so her head was hanging limply. Her mouth opened slowly and she drew in a heavy breath as if she had just gotten over being ill, taking her first pure unhindered breath since becoming better. With the magic filled air she started chanting, the candles around her came to life with the power of the old magic surrounding her.

She could hear the whispers of what once was Lily Potter behind her, muttering about insanity and doing the same thing over and over. The Lily that was wandering the room was not a ghost, not in all senses of the word anyways. Ghosts were merely an imprint of a spirit on the world, much like the ashen imprints of people left over from the nuclear bombing in Japan. The basic form of the person was there, but it was not an exact likeness, there were things about the person that could never be gleaned from prying eyes. Lily, however, was essentially a complete being. The only thing the dead woman needed was a body, then she would be without a single aspect missing. Such was the power of the Old Religion, binding two souls together, without any thought to their feelings upon the matter.

A flare of annoyance welled up in Morgana's chest; she had been stuck all those years with Lily's love tethered to her own being, all of the reasoning of the Old Religions plans. Those plans where their only reasoning was rested upon bringing balance. But, she had gotten used to the impossible development, and the two had become something akin to sisters, both eager to help and care for Harry. Like all sisters there were moments when they didn't get along at all, and that was usually whenever Morgana strived to gain her magic back.

'This isn't going to work.' Lily's ghost, if she could be called that, said as she walked around the chalk diagram Morgana was kneeling in. 'When it is time, it will happen.'

Morgana's upper lip twitched in aggravation, the calming scent of fern wafted through the room, coming from her candles. She did not make an effort for any retorts to Lily, instead she continued speaking the chants for the ceremony.

'The old magic will return when it feels you have changed enough.' Lily had somehow become the spokesman for the Old Religion. Which never would have happened if she hadn't been so foolish. The only reason Lily had been connected to Morgana was because before she had died she had gone through an ancient ceremony of sacrifice, asking the old religion to save her child. And it had worked, the old religion was all about balance, a life for a life. And since she gave her life to fuel the spell, she then belonged to the old religion for it to do with her as it wished. What it wished was for her to be planted within Morgana in a strange bond.

The bond was very different when it first began, at first Morgana could feel the echoes of Lily's emotions for her son. As Morgana helped Harry and acted upon Lily's love she had started to remember what feelings of life, such as love, felt like. The more those pure feelings grew in her the more Lily became detached from her. After a year of being connected Morgana could hear her voice, after two she could see her form, by four years they would argue on the best way to punish Harry.

The ceremony ended almost too suddenly for Morgana's tastes, and not soon enough for Lily's. Sighing Morgana collected the candles and set them away in her cupboard.' You do not know everything you think you do.' Morgana said, then tilted her head from side to side, her neck always ached after that ritual.

'I know a lot.' Lily ran her fingers through her hair watching as Morgana cleaned up the chalk. 'You're still going to try and see if your magic is back?'

'Of course,' Morgana waved her hand in the air and whispered a spell she was well acquainted with, tsking when she had no response. 'Ah well,' her eyes glinted with confidence. 'Patience and I are no strangers, I'll get this remedied.' Lily's lips quirked into an amused smile as she nodded, as much as she didn't like Morgana's determination to rush things, she had to admire her persistence.

* * *

'It's impossible,' Harry said as he stared at the broom that was still firmly planted on the ground, not moving a tiny bit.

'Patience.' Blaise grinned, gripping his broom that came up the first time he called it.

'You're not the first one to tell me that.' Harry grimaced when he realised that even Neville had his broom in his hands. 'Up!' The broom just wiggled on the ground as if taunting him.

'Weird, brooms usually don't usually resist so much.' Harry pressed his lips together as Ron walked up to him. 'It must be the bad energy.' Ron glared at Blaise who just smiled back.

'Oh look, a wild Weasel, they don't come out of their holes often.' Blaise chirped as he leaned on his broom.

'Take that back you nasty snake!' Ron pointed his broom at Blaise as if it were a wand.

'Back down.' Harry commanded Ron, his annoyance being transferred to a new medium or rather the young Weasley.

'Yeah, _Weasley_ ,' Draco hissed as if the name itself were an insult, 'back down.' Harry stepped back as the two started stepping towards each other, eyes flaming with anger. He would let them duke it out and happily remain in the background.

'Is this going to happen every time they run into each other,' Neville questioned, a grimace firmly planted on his face.

'Don't doubt it.' Blaise tossed an orb in the air as if it were a tennis ball. Both Harry and Neville paused before narrowing their eyes at the young Italian. Instantly Neville was patting down his pockets before rolling his eyes.

'Really?' Neville looked completely and utterly amused as he realised that the remembrall was his and somehow Blaise had nicked it from his pockets. Really Hermione was the only one who disliked Blaises habits, the rest of the group just thought it was hilarious.

'What?' Blaise paused before looking at the remembrall. 'Aha, whoops?' With a shrug of his shoulders Blaise continued tossing it in the air, finding it more interesting than Draco and Ron fighting.

'We should be heading out.' Neville stuffed his hands in his pockets, scrunching up his nose as a group of Gryffindor's pushed by him. Hanging out with Harry and Blaise was really impacting his social life, the Gryffindor's were between believing that he thought he was good to hang with them, to thinking that he was a dark wizard in training. Neville a dark wizard? They seemed oblivious to just how ludicrous that sounded.

'Yeah,' Harry said. With a resigned sigh he reached down and grabbed the shaft of the school broom. When the teacher hadn't been looking during the lesson he had snatched it up and then continued with the lesson doing perfectly fine once he got on. He had placed it down on the ground and tried again shortly after class had ended, with no result. If anything he should have raised it first. Clearly he wasn't as skilled as he once presumed he was.

'So, do we go look for our bookworm?' Blaise ran his fingers through his hair, looking at the moving mass of red and green.

'Our b-bookworm?' Neville repeated after him. 'We can't just declare Hermione as ours.'

'It's not literal,' Blaise patted Neville's head reassuringly. 'It's more a term of endearment rather than anything.' Harry nodded and ran his fingers through his hair, his mother had always said such things as well.

'Blaise, the group of us are heading to the common room, are you…..coming?' Pansy acted as if she could not see Neville.

'Sure.' Blaise shrugged and started walking with Pansy.

'Pendragon, are you coming or not?' Pansy frowned at Harry, looking annoyed with his lack of movement.

'I...suppose,' Harry shook his head before smiling at Neville. 'See you tomorrow,' after Neville said his farewell Harry started following after the two of them, running to catch up. If Blaise was leaving, then he had good reason to follow.

'Are we finally talking about status?' Blaise asked, glancing at Draco who was prancing around as if he ruled the school.

'Yes.' Pansy sighed and looked at Harry. 'I dread to see who will take Draco's place.'

'I don't, glad everyone's finally come to their sense. Draco couldn't lead the group.'

'Since when was he a leader?' Harry frowned, his green eyes sharpening as he stared at Pansy.

'Slytherin always selects one representative for each year. The representative is essentially the leader and is crucial for in house politics. You met Flint? He's the sixth year representative, Bulstrode has an older brother, he's the fourth year representative. The seventh year representative is a girl by the name of Zoe Accrington, and so on.'

'And Draco was our representative?' Harry frowned looking disgusted.

'Yes, and now we're electing a new one.' Pansy hissed the password to the designated wall which moved aside for their entrance.

'Zoe Accrington is going to be holding the event, as she is the oldest representative.' Blaise led Harry to the corner of the common room beside the fireplace. The other four, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis were already seated on the couch, waiting for the last three.

'We're holding this event without the other three first years?' A tall girl with dark brown hair swept past Harry and Blaise, her hazel eyes were amused, but were glinting with authority as she claimed the most decorative chair.

'Yes, we are discluding Draco Malfoy because he has failed to withhold his position to the degree that is necessary of a representative.' Pansy took a seat to Zoe's left, essentially claiming herself as the next person of power aside from her. 'Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe are also being removed as their loyalties lie to their duty to support Draco. Any choices they make will be biased, therefore, they are not here.'

'Good.' Zoe smiled emotionlessly at Pansy before scanning the group. 'Now, Mr. Pendragon I'd be honoured if you sat beside me.' Ignoring the look of shock on Pansy's face she, guided Harry to sitting on her left, the place of power for the male. 'Who brought concern of Mr. Malfoy's abilities?'

'I did.' Tracey Davis inclined her head in Zoe's direction. 'We have barely started our school year but already out representative is being ridicule upon us. His name is a joke to the students, everyone knows his power stems from his father's money and not his own abilities. We need a representative that will make a name for us, and not bring laughter to our memory.'

'And who agrees?' Zoe asked as she folded her hands in her lap, watching the hatchlings with critical eyes. Instantaneously all six Slytherins made signs or agreement. 'Then we shall need a proxy until we can properly determine who will be the new representative. Tracey?'

'I am honoured you would consider me worthy enough to stand in for that position, I already had a candidate in mind.' Tracey smiled sweetly, looking pleased with how everything was turning out.

'Oh?' Zoe nodded, willing to hear her idea.

'As we all know our school was looking forwards to getting Harry Potter.' Tracey started, ignoring the uncomfortable looked that flashed across Harry's face and the knowing one on Zoe's. 'However, the Slytherin house got Harry Pendragon. He has already curried favour with some Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, as well shown his passion that is closely correlated to ambition. He will do well as a representative.'

'I agree.' Zoe nodded her head before scanning the group. 'All in favour?' Five Slytherins nodded, only Harry and Pansy did not respond. 'That is the majority, Mr. Pendragon is the new representative. Good luck,' Zoe smiled at him before walking away, being stopped by the other five representatives and a small group of her own age group who wanted to hear what happened.

'Look at that, you're practically a Lord,' Tracey chirped before standing up and walking away. Harry frowned in discomfort, certain he missed some hidden meaning what she said. There was also the uncomfortable feeling that came from the girl who treated him badly, suddenly giving him a position of power.

'Guess I'll have to teach you a new set of skills.' Blaise mused.

* * *

September went by smoothly for the quartet. They would spend their afternoons studying the library together, taking evenings for breaks and avoiding both Ron and Draco whenever they could. The two were getting more riled up as time went on, eager to get Harry on one of their sides. Both of them seemed to imagine that Harry could only pick a side if he picked one of them. Draco seemed to think that if he got Harry on his side then he could once again be the representative of their year. But he had completely lost it. Harry treated them the way he treated Quirrell, with indifference. But of course, trouble could not always be avoided, the groups indifference to the world was broken shortly after Neville went missing from one of their studying sessions, coming back later as a blubbering mess.

'Neville, calm down,' Harry sat down beside Neville and ran his fingers through the older boys hair, emulating what his Mother always did when he was upset. 'You're okay.'

'B-b-but, it was a-a-a dog!' Neville's hands shook as he tried to grab his knees, hoping that it would calm his jittery body.

'It's hardly a surprise that a dog is at the school, Neville.' Hermione rolled her eyes her tone just as pretentious as previously, 'Hagrid himself has a big dog.'

'Not one with three heads!' He snapped back, oblivious to the glares Harry and Blaise sent Hermione from her apathetic response.

'Like a hellhound?' Harry questioned as Blaise whispered to Hermione, lecturing her on the way to deal with people who are upset.

'I-I don't know! Ron made me go and-'

'He did what!' Blaise frowned, his eyebrows furrowing with anger, suddenly tuning in.

'I was with Dumbledore, and-and, Ron came in, and we were supposed to be friends. He said he wanted me t-to find out who Harry's mother was and tell him. T-then he said Gryffindors must stick together, a-and I know the views of Slytherins.'

'No!' Hermione shook her head look completely confused. 'I can't imagine Dumbledore would encourage a divide between houses, much less being prejudiced.'

'M-maybe I misunderstood,' Neville deflated, knowing that he had not actually heard wrong. Harry sighed heavily, Neville had the worst tendency to ignore his truths when a stronger person disagreed.

'A three headed dog?' Blaise questioned, easing the group off of the subject of Dumbledore's shaky actions. 'Where?'

'The third floor corridor, R-Ron, said it was defending something, a stone of F-Famel or something.'

'Famel?' Harry frowned, the name meant nothing to him and he could see everyone felt the same. The Quartet had no idea that it was really Flamel and they could care less, they were more incensed that Neville had been forced into a situation against his will.

'Maybe we should check the corridor, see for sure what it is.' Hermione was eager to see exactly what it was in the corridor, she had been dying of curiosity the whole time previously. 'Neville, you do not have to come if you don't want to.'

'N-no it's okay. I c-can't let you guys go alone.' His jaw lifted in confidence, despite his fear he would not let his friends go there without help.

'Alright, tomorrow night we will go to the third corridor,' Blaise said as he nodded his head, his words steeped with authority.

 


	7. Chapter 7

'Potter has been made the representative,' Severus said with a sigh and massaged his temples as if it would soothe the headache that was wrecking havoc on his mind.

'Has he?' Albus entwined his fingers on top of his desk, his face oddly serious. 'Tom was also his years representative.' Sighing Albus picked up a lemon drop/ 'I am questioning Harry's role in the prophecy.' Severus narrowed his eyes, finally sitting down in the seat across from Albus' desk.

'You think he is not the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord?'

'I am unsure.' Albus sucked on the lemon drop mutely, considering what he had learned about Harry in the month he had been in school. 'We had wondered if it was him or Neville that was the one in the prophecy. Truly there was no time frame given, Neville may yet be marked his equal.'

'You don't think the Potter boys scar counts as the mark?' Severus frowned, a dark glint making his eyes warp and twist as if shadows were dancing inside.

'Prophecies are never as clear as one first imagines.' Albus stuck his finger in the air as Fawkes trilled, as if agreeing with the aging headmaster. 'I worry that Harry may follow in Tom's footsteps.'

'Because he's a Slytherin.' Severus frowned, well aware of the headmasters expectation that he would be in the Gryffindor house, much like Neville was. If Severus were to be honest with himself, he would admit that the boy had a dark quality, not one of evil, but one of knowledge. He felt as if the boy knew some secret, one that must be controlled, lest it destroy all that is known.

'No, no, my dear boy, not at all,' Albus said as he shook his head dismissively. 'It is rather his actions that worry me. Harry entered the school entertaining relationships with most people he came in contact with.' Severus refused the biting urge to comment that such actions were common among juvenile students in a new year of school. Not that he was defending the Potter spawn. 'He has now gained the leadership role over all of the Slytherin first years, and he has showed disregard for teachers. I fear one day we shall find him sneaking into the restricted section to look at books on the dark arts.'

'A good Slytherin would not sneak, he would be cunning enough to gain permissible entrance,' Severus drawled, smirking faintly at the deadpan look Albus sent him.

'The point, Severus, remains the same. Harry may get into things that are dangerous for a young and developing mind like his. I don't understand why he keeps denying the young Ron's advances for friendship, the Weasley's are such a nice family. They would be good for him.'

'I have no doubts that the _cosy_ characteristics of the family are appealing for you but I don't fault the boy for resisting all signs of acquaintance. Every moment I have seen the two communicate, the young Weasley has insulted him in some form.'

'I see.' Albus spoke slowly, making it clear that he did in fact hear Severus, but that he could really not care less about what he was saying. After all, Albus had a pre-established view of what must happen, and his only concern was making it happen. 'Have you any news on Quirrell?'

'No, he has made no signs of going towards the third floor corridor. If he is going to, it won't be any time soon.'

'Keep an eye on him Severus, it's important that he doesn't get his hand on the stone.' Severus nodded before dismissing himself from the headmaster's presence, he could tell the meeting was over.

* * *

'Are you sure you want to do this?' Neville frowned and scratched the back of his head looking distinctly uncomfortable.

'Of course,' Blaise said as he nodded, easily taking the lead. 'If the headmaster does have a dangerous creature in the school, such as a three headed dog, then appropriate measures must be taken.'

'Like?' Hermione questioned, still looking uncertain. She wasn't about to believe the dangers the teachers were enforcing upon them until she saw proof, until then she was going to go along with them just enough that she could keep them out of trouble.

'We would have to tell the authorities,' Harry spoke firmly leaving no room for any other thoughts. 'Much like it is a King's duty to ensure his people are safe, no matter the costs, it is also the headmaster's duty to ensure his students are safe, no matter the cost. If he has brought a dangerous creature into the school then something must be done.'

'My mother is on the school board,' Blaise spoke up, unlike when Draco spoke his words seem to be just a statement of fact rather than bragging. 'If we got sizable evidence of what the headmaster is doing then we could get the whole matter under control.'

'But we can't risk Dumbledore being kicked out, better the evil we know than the evil we don't.'

'You're talking about getting the headmaster sacked! If he were truly a king that would be _treason_ ,' Hermione hissed, looking appalled with the way things were going.

'Look at it this way, if the headmaster is willing to bring in an object dangerous enough that it must be guarded by a three headed dog, then what else is he willing to do?' Harry watched as Hermione's lips twitched, showing signs of her internal rationalisation.

'But it's _Dumbledore_ ,' Neville added in, 'he's the leader of the light! Why would he willingly put the students in harm?'

'You can't be thinking that he doesn't know,' Blaise argued back, 'he was the one to tell us to stay away from that floor. Clearly he not only knows but _authorised_ it.'

'This is the danger with even numbers,' Harry mumbled to himself, when the odds were so even, no decisions could ever be made. Hermione, hearing what he had to say, smiled at him looking amused with his point. Well, as amused as she could be when they were breaking the rules. He suspected the only reason she had gone this far was because she wanted to support Neville.

'Look, we aren't going to come to an agreement anytime soon, let's find a way to get some proof, and deal with the rest later,' Hermione said, laying down her thoughts and went red as the three boys stared at her intently, 'what?'

'Brilliant,' Blaise beamed at her before pulling a camera and scissors out of his bag. 'I already got a means of proof.'

'Scissors?' Neville paled as he stared at them.

'Well, how else are we to prove we took the picture?'

'B-but, that means one of us has to get close enough to cut off some hair!'

'I know!' Blaise nodded, not really seeing anything wrong with his plan. 'Since you're the Gryffindor.'

'No, no way,' Neville shook his head and waved his hands in front of him vigorously. 'Not happening.'

'I'm sure there is a simple spell that will do something along the same lines.' Hermione rolled her eyes looking exasperated. 'Honestly, boys.'

'It was a joke,' Blaise looked unperturbed by her cold demeanor, instead all of his thoughts were focused on remembering a spell that would work. 'We could just use calvario and accio. Calvario removes the subjects hair, and we could accio some of the hair. It's in Curses and Counter-Curses.' He said before Hermione could question his knowledge.

'So, lets head out before we lose our confidence.' Harry ran his hand through his hair, trying to hide his nervousness.

'Now?' Neville squeaked out.

'Of course, the longer we have to think things through, the more time we'll have to doubt our choices.' Hermione stated, looking quite unsure herself.

'It's all for the betterment of the school,' Blaise muttered to himself reassuringly. The Quartet moved out of the library trying to be as inconspicuous as they could. They likewise sneaked up the two sets of stairs before silently making their way to the door.

'This seems to easy,' Harry whispered as they came upon the door. As the more paranoid of the bunch it gave him a bad feeling, shouldn't an adult of some kind be watching the floor?

'No time for second thoughts,' Hermione whispered back before hissing alohomora. 'Blaise, on the ready, 3, 2, 1.' The instant she opened the door Blaise pointed his wand at the beast.

'Calvario!' Blaise exclaimed the correct spell, resulting in the dog losing it's hair. Of course, by the time that had happened the beast had seen them and each head was snarling and drooling. There was series of clicks as Harry manned the camera and Blaise was left stuttering instead of summoning some hair.

'Accio hair!' Neville tried his hand at the spell and failed. Apparently Blaise had forgotten to mention it was a fourth year spell, and neglected to show him the proper hand movements. Grimacing Harry made up his mind, well aware that his mother would ground him if she knew what he was about to do- and ran into the room and grabbed some of the hair, running out before the dog managed to bit him.

'Door! Door!' He exclaimed as he stuffed the hair into his pocket and started charging down the hall. Hermione barely managed to shut the door before she went running after him, quickly followed by Blaise.

'Colloportus,' Neville wisely locked the door with a simple spell before running right after the other three. All in all, mission accomplished.

* * *

'That was stupid,' Harry muttered, admonishing himself as he tied the mounds of dog hair he had retrieved into four separate small bundles, none thicker than a marker.

'Agreed,' Blaise nodded in agreement as he looked at the sets of photo's Harry had gotten. He set them in four separate envelope's and put each of the bundle's into each envelope before sealing them. He handed one to Neville, one to Harry, and kept the other two for himself. 'Remember to keep them safe, don't let anyone find them. If all of us have one then even if one gets confiscated by the headmaster, we can still get everything out.'

'What about Hermione's?' Neville pointed to hers with a frown.

'I haven't seen her all day,' Harry shrugged and Blaise nodded.

'I was going to give it to her at the feast tonight.' Blaise said.

'Maybe you should put it in your room for now,' Neville disagreed, 'she wouldn't want it with her at the feast.'

'He's got a point there,' Harry nodded, a grimace flashing across his face as he imagined having a packet of thick beast hair in his pocket while he's eating delectables.

'Alright, we'll give it to her at herbology then.' Blaise shrugged not bothered by it in the least. 'We'll go put these in our common room and see you in the main hall?' Blaise stood up, looking at Neville inquiringly.

'Of course.' With a firm nod Neville stood up as well. 'I'll try and figure out where Hermione is on the way, I'm bound to run into some Ravenclaws.'

'Great,' Harry grinned, genuinely pleased that they might find Hermione. 'Lus know if you find anything.' Blaise and Harry walked down to their common room, both deep in thought.

'You know, the last I saw our favourite mudblood she was running away from Ron.' Harry frowned at Blaise's words, both because of what he called her, and from Ron's possible bullying. He never understood why the Italian used such derogatory terms for his friends. He supposed he would never know.

'You think she's okay?'

'I'm sure she's fine, girls need to be left alone when they're upset. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?'

'Good point.' Harry grinned before saying their password, basilisk, and heading to his room to hide his letter in his chest.

'You're just putting it in there?' Blaise looked at the chest suspiciously then incredulously at Harry.

'Yeah, mum put an anti-thieving charm on it.' Harry shrugged, not completely sure of what she did to it. All he knew was that she assured him nobody would get in, and she had her familiar conniving glint in her eyes so he trusted her.

'I suppose,' Blaise shrugged before putting on a new set of robes.

'How many times must you change your robes.' Harry adjusted his robes, that he had on the whole day, and followed Blaise out of their dorm room.

'It's a celebratory _feast_ , Harry, you're supposed to be clean and put together.'

'I am.' the two continued debating about inconsequential things as they walked to the main hall.

'Nothing.' Neville said.

'What?' Harry and Blaise both exchanged confused looks at Neville's blunt words. To be honest, neither of them even noticed Neville till he had spoken up.

'I've heard absolutely nothing about where Hermione is.' Neville chewed on his lip anxiously, worried about their only female friend.

'I'm sure she'll turn up.' Blaise frowned and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking confused. 'A prefect is probably going to find her and bring her here, they'll notice she's missing.' Smiling reassuringly at Neville, Blaise started walking off to the Slytherin table, looking completely unenthused with the floating pumpkins and other Halloween decorations.

'I suppose he's right,' Neville sighed before looking at down at Harry, who was just that little bit shorter. 'If we don't see her midway through supper we should look for her.'

Harry nodded sharply, his green eyes scanning the students around them as if trying to solve a murder mystery. 'We'll try and figure out more. Enjoy your supper.' Smiling weakly he went to turn to his table, but Neville cleared his throat, going red.

'L-look, I know your parents died tonight. A-and I just wanted to say that I'll remember them and what they did for you, and us. Because if they didn't then, you wouldn't be here.' Before Harry could say anything Neville had ducked away to the Gryffindor table, reluctantly taking a seat beside one of the infamous Weasley twins.

Smiling to himself, Harry walked to the Slytherin table, taking the first seat on the left side that was right where the second years started. The highest ranking female and male always sat on the border between their year and the higher one, and Harry was still shocked to see that it was him and Pansy sitting across from the each other with her, of course, sitting on the right side of the table. 'Pansy,' he greeted with a nod of his head.

'Harry.' She inclined her head as well, looking upset that Daphne had the spot claimed beside her.

'Now Pansy, is that any way to greet your _superior_?' Daphne smiled wolfishly, being sure to point out that Pansy hadn't become the representative for their year, as she had been doing for the whole month.

'Oh, of course,' Pansy said in a drone, 'my apologies.'

'No need.' Harry smirked feeling amused, as always, by their harmless conflict. 'Say, do you guys know what happened to Granger part way through the day?'

'What? That mudblood?' Theodore questioned, his mouth scrunching up with distaste. 'No, and good riddance.'

'I know what happened.' Tracey leaned forwards so she could see Harry, she was right beside Blaise who as always claimed his left side.

'What?' Blaise came to attention, focusing on the girl who steadily went pink from his attention. Harry felt his eyes narrow, so the girl who hated him for no reason had a crush on Blaise? Maybe that was where the strange helpfulness was coming from.

'As you know the DADA room and transfiguration are quite close, well when she was leaving she overheard that Weasley kid calling her a stuck up know it all, he made a point of saying that you two only hung out with her for her smarts. Said she had no friends and her only point in life was doing other people's homework.'

'Well, that's unoriginal.' Blaise rolled his eyes looking like he didn't care, yet Harry and him both shared concerned glances. Hermione had always been sensitive about such things, she really wanted friends but her own personality got in the way. It really was a low blow.

'When I was coming to the feast I stopped by the washroom on the first floor and I heard her crying.' Pansy stage whispered, quickly catching on that Blaise and Harry were interested in the subject. 'But with the way she sounded, she could have been Moaning Myrtle.' Pansy laughed in her usual chittering way, oblivious to the angry look that grew in Harry's eyes, making them shine much like the infamous Avada spell. He looked at the Gryffindor table, clenching his jaw when he caught view of Ron. He hissed words under his breath for a spell he had read in his mother's book of the Old Religion. He had no idea what it did, but he figured that it would be worth it, Ronald must be punished and he would rather doing it himself. After all, the Old Religion was all about balance, what better balance for bullying than a well placed curse?

Harry and Blaise both stayed at the table, eating what little they could manage, before standing up to leave. They didn't want to make it obvious that they were seeking out Hermione, it wasn't that they were ashamed of their friendship, the whole castle knew about it. However, it was important that they didn't emphasize how much she meant to them, lest someone take advantage of it. As the two boys made their way to the doors Neville joined them, as well as a frantic Quirrell.

'Troll! Troll in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know.' The teacher fainted right in the middle of the boys, and they quickly parted causing the teacher to hit the floor.

'Hermione's in the first floor bathroom.' Harry hissed before looking at Neville and Blaise.

'We have to go get her!' Neville exclaimed, his face paling at the extremity of the situation. A three headed dog was bad enough, but a troll too?

'Wait,' Harry raised his hand and shook his head. 'Hermione will last, we need to stop our house and Hufflepuff's from leaving, both dormitories are in the dungeons.' Blaise went to Snape and spoke to him as Neville ran to the Hufflepuff head of house, leaving Harry by the doorway waiting for them. They sneaked out of the hall as Dumbledore, wisely, announced for those two houses to stay put.

'I can't believe the teachers didn't realise that themselves,' Neville muttered, quite upset, as they made their way to the washroom Hermione was supposedly in.

'I can't believe that Weasel bullied her,' Harry said, joining into Neville's negativity as Blaise nodded, agreeing with everything being said. 'How are we supposed to deal with a troll?'

'Took you long enough.' Blaise rolled his eyes. 'I told our head of house that Hermione was in the bathroom, as well as the Ravenclaw head of house. They should be heading here too.'

'Then why are _we_ going?' Harry frowned, it wasn't that he didn't want to help his friend, he just didn't see the point of risking his life if he knew she was going to be safe. His words were quickly cut off by a piercing feminine scream.

'I guess t-thats why,' Neville smirked looking at Harry as if he were amused by the timing of it all before they ran to the girl's bathroom. Harry grimaced, his mind was against saving her but his body was almost ready to act on it's own and help her. He truly hated risking his life.

'I guess, sometimes you've got to do what you know is right, and damn the consequences,' Harry clutched his wand and stared at the door to the washroom with a growing sense of unease, well aware that was no time to waste. Squeezing his eyes shut he shook his head before charging in, Blaise and Neville coming in right after him.

The first thing they noticed was the smell, the putrid, rotting smell, like somebody had left their soggy gym clothes in the locker for the better part of the year. The second thing they noticed was Hermione's small form huddled under a sink, staring fearfully at the brute of a troll that was swinging it's club down at her.

'Hey! Leave her alone!' Neville picked up a piece of shattered porcelain and tossed it at the troll, paling when the creature grunted and stared at him.

'Nice,' Blaise drawled, 'really thought that one through, didn't you?'

'Yeah, well you do better,' Neville snapped back, apparently forgetting his nervousness at the door. 'We need a plan of action.'

'Alright.' Blaise nodded approvingly. 'Harry, you try and get around the troll and save Hermione, Neville and I will distract him.'

'Gotcha.' Nodding Harry followed their, rather measly, plan. Quickly finding himself under the sink with a petrified Hermione. 'Come on.' Without letting her say anything he pulled her along the line of sinks until they got back to where Neville and Blaise were distracting the troll. In a moment of harebrained Gryffindor mindset Harry pulled out the camera he still had from the dog incident and snapped as many photos as he could of the troll, they needed evidence.

'Let's get out of her.' Not willing to fight the troll longer than they had to, Blaise guided the group out of the washroom, pushing them along until they got to a portrait of a few fruits. Without pause he tickled the pear and pushed them in as soon as the portrait swung open. The four kids breathed out a collective sigh of relief, only to marvel at the kitchens. 'Welcome to Hogwarts kitchens,' Blaise waved his arms around before guiding Hermione to a seat. Harry took a moment to note that the room had five tables positioned exactly like the great hall above them.

'Could we please get some tea?' Neville asked a small creature with large floppy ears that Harry eventually recognized as a house elf. His mother had never bought a house elf, she thought it would be better for him to learn responsibility through chores, which she helped with as well.

'Right away young masters,' the house elf said before scurried around to gather the necessary things. Harry and Neville quickly claimed seats beside Hermione who was rubbing her eyes frantically, trying to get rid of the tears.

'We know what happened.' Harry's tone was low and threatening, indicating just how angry he was with Ron.

'You're angry with me! Oh, it's true,' she cried out looking ready to burst into another set of tears. Instantly Harry's eyes widened and he looked shocked as Neville and Blaise both sent him glares for setting her off.

'N-no I-'

'What Harry means, is that he's not happy with Ron,' Neville reassured her as he started rubbing her back soothingly. 'None of us are, it's not true, you know that right? You're our friend because we want you to be.'

'B-but I _am_ annoying and a know it all, and, and, I am insufferable!'

'The only moment you are insufferable is when you're being unfair to yourself, like now,' Blaise frowned and awkwardly patted her head. With guys he could be as touchy feely as he wanted but he always felt like he was crossing some line when it came to girls. 'If you were so bad we wouldn't hang out with you.'

'If you were as bad as he says, we would never have sought you out knowing there was a troll on the loose around where you were,' Harry added in. Hermione sniffled, taking Blaise's handkerchief with a sniffly thanks.

'You knew?' She whispered in disbelief as she patted the tears away from her eyes.

'Of course,' Harry took the handkerchief from her and wiped her nose, annoyed that she was trying to keep the handkerchief so clean, it was made for cleaning so, therefore, she must use it for such. She flushed at being treated like a child but Harry didn't even notice.

'We're your friends, Hermione.' Neville handed her one of the four mugs that had appeared onto the table in front of them. 'As soon as we knew what had happened we were determined to find you, troll or not.'

'Thank you,' Hermione said as she smiled weakly, looking genuinely thankful. And of course she was, how could she not when the three ran into danger just for her.

'No problem, princess.' Blaise beamed as Harry and Neville snickered, watching as Hermione went red.

'What's that for?'

'Well, aren't princess always damsels in distress? You were in distress, you are a damsel, and we saved you, you're like our own personal princess. And we're your knights in shining armour.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' She looked into her tea, drinking it to distract herself from her flushed cheeks. However, Hermione didn't have the heart to feel annoyed, rather she felt a bubbling warmth that she hadn't thought she would ever feel, let alone identify. It was contentment, despite almost dying she was content because for once she had good friends that she got along with.

* * *

'Oh dear Merlin.' Lily sighed exasperated as she collapsed into the chair beside Morgana. 'What has he done now?'

'Your son has taken a picture of and personally gotten the hair off of a three headed dog,' Morgana said when she dropped the photos and a small bundle of hair on the table in front of them. She had a feeling that Harry was leaving something out, other than that, but she would have to wait to find out. He could hide whatever he wanted in letters, but he was defenseless face to face.

' _My son_ , now he's _my_ son?' Lily sighed, barely having enough energy for disbelief.

'Yes, he's always been your son,' Morgana argued back. 'Nonetheless I'll have to figure out his plan of action, I'm not going to have my son going to a school where they have a three headed beast in a corridor that even first years can get into.'

'Perhaps Amelia could help? I heard she's taken office,' Lily frowned as she stared at the tea in front of Morgana, she wished she were corporeal enough to drink tea, she could barely smell it as well.

'Perhaps the goblins would be eager to help as well.' Morgana picked up her tea as if taunting Lily with the fact that she couldn't have any. 'It's always nerve racking to involve the ministry, I hardly trust them with my sons schooling, let alone his safety.' Since she had joined the wizarding world four years previous she had entangled herself with as many reputable people as she could in the ministry. Most of the people she saw were fickle and not worth her effort, but she still needed their support.

'And now he's your son again,' Lily mused with a smile on her lips. Morgana kept drinking her tea as if she didn't hear the spirit, but a smirk was curling at her lips, making it obvious she did hear her.

'The important part of our business lies upon gaining control of this Dumbledore, who knows who could come in his stead if we get rid of him. Instead we should seek to make sure we have an understanding. So how much do we tell the public? If we tarnish his image too much he might get forced out.'

'Perhaps it would be best if he were forced out.' Lily disagreed. 'I know the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. We can trust her, and she would naturally be his successor.'

'She is trustworthy?' Morgana brushed her brown hair out of her eyes, focusing on the letter in front of her.

'Of course,' Lily nodded assured of herself. 'She was also a part of the MLE,' at Morgana's blank look she said what it meant, 'magical law enforcement. She would understand what to do.'

'But at the same time she is aware of this creature and is letting it in the school.'

'She may not have a choice, Dumbledore was her mentor in transfiguration.'

'Alright,' Morgana sighed humming in agreement, 'I suppose I'll have to wait and see about her. But as it is, now we must involve enforcement of some kind.' She always dreaded involving others, especially people of authority, but she supposed she had no choice. Not when Harry's life was in danger. She was tempted to storm Hogwarts herself, but with no magic and the Old Religion's own personal mascot scolding her for every potentially evil action she doubted it would go well.

 

* * *

The next day was extremely awkward for Harry, he wasn't oblivious to the way the headmaster stared at him over his half moon glasses. He could tell that his head of house was glaring at him less, for reasons unknown, and his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was suddenly wearing a turban. The three things seemed unrelated to an untrained eye but Harry could almost see the thread the connected it all. The major knot in the string, the thing that must have caused all this must be the object that was being hidden by the dog. It simply had to be. But he wasn't about to go looking into it further than he had to, he flashed a smile at the headmaster before looking back at the table, that was exactly what Dumbledore wanted.

'So,' Blaise pierced a piece of fruit with his fork looking disinterested in the yellow flesh of the pineapple. 'What are we going to do about Ron?'

'We are going to do nothing,' Harry broke out of his thoughts with a smug smirk. His eyes flashed with a disturbing malevolent glow. He turned around to look at the Gryffindor table, his gaze landed upon Ron who seemed to be walking to the table unsteadily, looking as if he were still asleep. His red hair was flattened on one side and the other was haywire, splayed all over his head.

'Did you pull a prank?'

'No,' Harry said as he picked up his plate, 'though I'm about to get a good view of the action.'

'You can't eat at the Gryffindor table!' Draco exclaimed from the middle of the table.

'Can't I?' Harry frowned at Draco, not missing the dark circles under the boys eyes. Draco had been struggling to get his place back but nothing he did worked. Harry had a natural air about him, something that made people like him, made them want to listen. And he used it to his best ability. 'Something's about to happen Draco, and I would prefer having front row seats. Are you coming Blaise?'

'Always.' Blaise followed after Harry, walking to the Gryffindor table. Harry promptly sat down beside Neville, and Blaise sat on the other side of the Longbottom heir. 'When is the show beginning?' Just as he spoke Ron made to sit down, only to slip and hit the ground. 'Really? That's it?' Blaise looked at Harry who shrugged.

'I don't know if that is even part of it, I never actually checked to see what the curse did.'

'Hermione would say that's irresponsible.' Neville spoke up before taking a bite of his oatmeal.

'Better than me going King Cobra on him,' Harry mused as he bit into his toast. 'I watched a documentary on them once, they are quite interesting beings. They tend to hunt their own kind for food, and they work with patience and use calculated strength.' He watched with a growing smile as every move Ron made backlashed on him. When Ron sat down, he bashed his legs against the table, when he dished his food, he spilled it everywhere, when he drank his juice it spilled down his shirt.

'How so?' Blaise questioned, smirking in Ron's direction.

'They'll bit down on their prey and inject their venom, depending on how they attacked they might go straight to swallowing and attempt to crush their prey's head, or they may even entwine their body with their prey so they can keep it from running away. Either way it's all dependant on patience, venom, and strength.'

'So, this is less King Cobra and more?'

'Vengeful leprechaun?' Harry shrugged, not knowing what his revenge counted for other than rash stupidity, in other words, his Gryffindor was showing.

'Leprechaun?' Neville repeated, not saying anything else, he didn't need to. His tone itself showed just how ridiculous he thought the comment was. Needless to say Harry wasn't the best at comparing. 'Do you guys know why Quirrell is wearing that turban?'

'I heard it was a gift from some prince.' Blaise picked up one of his orange slices. 'I don't know why he would be wearing it.'

'It smelt like garlic in his room yesterday, like someone had left bundles of fresh garlic in his room all weekend long.' Neville winced before loud laughter filled the Gryffindor table. They looked down and saw Ron with porridge all over his hair that was slowly dripping down onto his body in thick sticky globs. The youngest Weasley at Hogwarts stood up, porridge and all, and stormed out of the breakfast hall looking just as red as tie. He was almost out of the hall when he tripped and hit the ground face first, looking as if someone had just pulled an imaginary rug out from under him. 'What did you _do_ to him?'

'I have no idea, but whatever I did was the best curse I have ever cast,' Harry grinned looking completely pleased with himself. Maybe his eyes were playing a trick on him, but he could have sworn that in that moment a small creature winked at him before melding with Ron's shadow. With an ease that betrayed nothing he felt, he took a sip of his water.

* * *

'This is so not cool,' Harry hissed as he covered his nose, feeling his eyes starting to water from the overwhelming aroma of garlic inside of the the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.

'What's going on?' Blaise muttered, in full agreement with Harry. They both claimed the seats at the very back of the room, casting incredulous looks with each other Quirrell walked into the room still wearing his turban.

'I don't know, I mean.' Harry looked to the front and hissed in pain as what felt like fiery tongs pierced his scar when he met his teachers eyes.

'Harry?' Blaise looked at him worriedly, Harry waved his hand dismissively as he lowered his head and rubbed his aching scar.

'Mr. P-potter, d-d-do you have a p-problem?'

'Yes, Professor, I have a headache. I think I have to go see Madam Pomfrey.' He lifted his eyes and met his teachers wavering blue ones.

'G-go, M-mr. Potter, you are excused.' Quirrell shook his head as if he had his own headache. Harry stood up and shot Blaise a look that clearly said to watch out for their teacher before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking to the infirmary. After a short and useless meeting with her he scoured the school for a quiet place. Finding a small hidden tunnel he crouched down and whispered the words to one of the spells that he didn't know, at least if his mother was asking, "fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum." A ball appeared at his fingertips, it's surface swirled like an orb of water, glowing with a blue light that filled the tunnel.

He pulled out the mirror his mother had given him and held it up so that it was not in view of the ball of light he had summoned, 'Morgana Pendragon.' Harry smiled as he saw the mirror light up and his mother appeared in it. 'Mom!'

'Harry.' Her lips pulled into a smile and she leaned back into the seat she was in, he recognized their living room instantly. He could see the bookshelves behind her and see the old floor lamp from behind her, it's cream coloured glass cover extending up to the ceiling, the light coming through it lighting up the dark room. His mother never lit up the room more than necessary, he didn't know if that was because she was used to the close reaching light of candles. 'Why are you calling? Is it about all of this _danger_ you're getting yourself into?'

'Not exactly.' Harry frowned and bit on his lip. 'Something weird happened in class.'

'And what was this?' Morgana's fine eyebrows raised and Harry had the terrible feeling that what he was about to say would change her calm attitude.

'After the troll attack everything started feeling different, Dumbledore has been looking at me funny, Professor Snape has essentially _not_ been looking at me and….' He paused and sighed, annoyed that he wasn't able to run his hands through his hair, he couldn't risk getting in trouble for casting spells of the Old Religion, especially at school. 'Professor Quirrell started wearing a turban non-stop and when I looked at him during class, my scar hurt.'

'How bad?' Her blue eyes darkened and Harry felt that just by looking in her eyes he could see what every possible future could bring from what was happening. He could see her jaw lifting as she listened, weighing everything he said with the kind of seriousness that he doubted he would have gotten from Dumbledore. He was, in fact, wrong. Dumbledore would have been extremely serious about the situation.

'Extremely bad, it was unnatural, I have felt nothing like it before.' He sighed in relief, feeling better that he had told someone that could help.

'You're coming home for Christmas, then we're going to have a long talk. We'll get this figured out.'

'Okay.' Harry smiled at his mother.

'Harry,' she drawled and he instantly felt his heart stop. She used that tone whenever she noticed him doing something wrong. But she couldn't know, she couldn't even see the ball of light.

'Yes?'

'Tell me, what colour is that silly spell these wizards use to create light?'

'Yellow?' He trailed off feeling a smile pull at his lips. Her scoldings really did nothing for him anymore, because he knew that she, herself was not acting as harsh as she could have been. She found it just as amusing as he did.

'You've been practicing,' Morgana smiled, her face losing all of the tension that had filled it from their previous conversation.

'Yeah.'

'I told you not to, but I suppose children find it impossible to listen to rules.' The way she said it would have sounded like an insult but Harry recognized that tone for what it was, her self-reminder of the differences between adults and children, or rather, the lack of difference. 'Make sure no one else sees, be careful. Okay? I love you.' Instantly the vision cut out and Harry smiled at the mirror that reflected his own face with an unnatural blue tint.

'I love you too,' Harry whispered, putting the mirror away. Seconds later Harry winced and gripped his hair with his free hand, he had mentioned the troll to his mother, he never mentioned the troll in his letter. Harry froze as he heard whispering, and he barely had time to crush the orb, putting it out before two people walked by him, not even noticing him.

'Hurry, Fred! We've got to get this to Lee before it cools!'

'Man, this is going to be so cool!' The other person whispered before they disappeared around another corner. Harry blinked and quietly followed after them, they led him back to where he had come in, before charging out of the tapestry. Harry barely got around it in time to see the back of two red heads turning down the corridor towards the Hufflepuff dorms.

'Huh, weird.' Harry blinked before shrugging and walking towards the Slytherin dorms.

'I smell it on you, young Pendragon!' Harry almost felt his heart stop in shock at the sound of the Bloody Baron behind him.

'Smell what?' He turned around to face his house ghost with his perfected frown, the one that radiated cluelessness and worked on every elementary school teacher he tried it on.

'The magic of the old religion! What have you been dabbling in, young Pendragon? What evils are you trying to stir up!' The Baron cackled as Harry glared at him.

'I am stirring up no evils, Baron, ágief déaþscúan,' he hissed the spell, ignorant of his eyes that flashed gold. A smirk pulled at his lips as the Bloody Baron was made to leave by the spell. Harry sighed in amusement at the memory of the sneer that was on the Baron's face as he was forced to listen to Harry. He would have to remember the exact wording so that he could banish Peeves whenever that poltergeist would decide to visit with stink bombs and the such. He was acting far too loose with his skills, something his mother would be sure to scold him on.

* * *

'So, what is this, the library council for the survival of the school?' Blaise questioned as they all sat around a table in a hidden part of the library.

'No, that would mean we were going to put ourselves in danger, for no reason.' Neville disagreed and Harry smiled at him approvingly. Ever since Ron had forced Neville to investigate the third corridor, Neville had lost all taste for adventuring needlessly. Especially since the teachers could handle with such dangers easily, _and_ they were the ones that set it up.

'So, what are we going to do about the dog?' Hermione pulled out her quill and a notebook. 'I've been thinking about everything we can do, so, are we going to bring magical law enforcement to the school now?'

'One second.' Harry pulled out a letter he had gotten recently about his mother's plan. 'My mother is, rather will be, petitioning as the guardian of the Potter seat in the Wizengamot. This might be just the thing to get her in.'

'What do you mean?' Hermione had a suspicious look on her face, whereas Neville and Blaise looked understanding.

'Because I'm underage someone must replace me and support my views in the Wizengamot, but it's some woman that my mother and I don't know and she's doing some things I disagree with, but I don't think I can do anything about it. But my mother can, but first she needs to get on at least one person's good side. This could be the perfect thing. Anyways, most people in the Wizengamot actually know her to some extent. She's been building her connections with them for the past couple of years.'

'But will anyone listen to her?' Blaise frowned and Neville tapped his finger against the table. Hermione wilted in the background looking like she was trying to decided if she was going to walk away or participate in what she viewed was manipulation. But really, what else was politics?

'That's where we come in, right? Our families are already respectable parts of the Wizengamot, so she puts forth the worry, but we _support_ it so that it's clear that she enforced it. That way all of the parents of students here will feel indebted to her as opposed to us.' Neville said with a thoughtful frown on his face.

'Exactly,' Harry smiled at Neville proudly before laying down the letter. 'My mother highlighted just how we're going to do that without giving Dumbledore a chance to tarnish her reputation. We'll need to get as many supporters as we can.'

'We already have the first year Slytherins, because you're our representative,' Blaise folded his hands on the table.

'But we need more than first years,' Hermione spoke softly as she looked over the letter, 'they won't trust only first years.'

'And you're our access point,' Harry smirked, as soon as Hermione talked she involved herself and he would make sure she would go the whole ten yards, to put it in muggle sport terms.

'Me?' She blinked looking shocked.

'Of course!' Blaise snapped his fingers looking excited. 'You go to the upper years and ask them questions, they already think you're interesting and smart. All you have to do is make them question what they know so that they'll look into it and hear it too. Then they'll think they're clever and thought of it themselves and spread it to everyone else.'

'This'll be perfect.' Neville beamed at his friends, enjoying the Slytherin way of things as opposed to the Gryffindors. After all, it wasn't impossible to be brave and not rush into action like it was a life source.

'Well, let's get a move on,' Harry said as he pushed himself up and started gathering his things. Hopefully, everything would be done by Christmas. He would need something solid to tell his mother by then.

* * *

'So, you're heading home?' Blaise questioned as he took a bite of his sandwich.

'Yeah,' Hermione nodded and bit into her carrot with a snap.

'We all are.' Neville was the only one that looked upset by that prospect. Harry bit into his sandwich again, trying to hide his wince. He wanted to invite Neville over, but that would mean that Neville would find out who his mother was and, well, he didn't see that going over very well. At least, not yet.

'You live with your grandmother, right?' Hermione questioned, with another snap as she ate another carrot.

'Yeah.' Neville nodded morosely as if his grandmother was a life sucking creature, in other words, a dementor. But well, his house did feel like a prison, so perhaps the comparison was apt.

'I guess.' Harry took yet another bite of sandwich trying to gain more time before he continued talking. 'You could come over to my house for Christmas if you like?'

'Really?' Neville's eyes lit up, and Harry's dimmed.

'Yeah, if you want to?' He was really taking a gamble with this, but he supposed there was nobody to trust if not Neville.

'I'll have to ask.' Neville took a big cheerful bite of his own sandwich and Blaise chewed on his sandwich before grinning.

'Hey, want to play a game?'

'What kind of game?' Hermione frowned, instantly suspicious, and she was right to be because as soon as she said that he got out a familiar looking box and dropped it down on the table between them.

'Russian roulette with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, we all take one and we have to eat it. If we spit it out we have to eat an extra as cannot look at the bean as you chose it. Each round we will play rock paper scissors and whoever wins gets a cup of water to rush the taste down.'

'Fine.' she sighed and nodded, followed by sounds of affirmation from Neville and Harry. So, they all took one bean. And, of course Hermione won with rock, while the rest of them lost with scissors.

'Worst part is they all look normal.' Neville winced and rubbed bright red bean in between his fingers. The four of them shoved their bean in their mouth and started chewing.

'Watermelon!' Hermione beamed and continued chewing happily on her blue bean.

'Apple sauce,' Neville chimed, looking equally as pleased.

'Butter tart.' Harry chewed on his slowly, savouring the taste of what had been a strangely tan coloured bean. All three of them started smirking at Blaise who was gagging, clearly not liking his red splotched bean.

'Do you want some water?' Hermione held out her cup to him, smiling innocently as he glared at her.

'Vomit.' As soon as he finished he picked out the next bean, this one was bright green. Neville picked a pink one after him, Hermione chose a pink one as well and Harry pulled out a yellow one. The next rock paper scissors was one by Neville, who gleefully picked up his cup before they all started eating their beans.

'Strawberry!' Hermione chirped.

'Lime,' Blaise mimicked her tone, grinning when she glared at him.

'Mucus.' Harry looked bored as he said his, it really didn't taste astronomically bad, but the idea of eating actual mucus revolted him.

'I think this is what monkey brains would taste like.' Neville manage to say before he downed all of his water in one shot.

'One more round?' Hermione chimed.

'You're just saying that because you never got a bad one.' Harry scoffed and looked at his watch. It was well past one, but the four of them had been hanging out in the kitchens every weeknight at such times. One of the rare times they could have peace and quiet.

In a spurt of Gryffindor style vengeance Neville picked up a bean and shoved it in Hermione's mouth. 'Bubblegum,' she said instantly, so he put another on in her mouth, 'pear.'

'Seriously!' Blaise frowned in disbelief before looking at Harry who shrugged, he really had no idea how Hermione's luck was so good. So, she got force fed another that turned out to be grape, another was chorizo, and finally, the last one was cinnamon, which apparently she hated so that made the trio of annoyed boys happy.

'Alright, let's head to bed.' Blaise shoved the box in his bag looking pleased with the look of disgust that was still on Hermione's face. 'Be careful, you guys. Don't get caught.'

'Of course not,' Neville shook his head before smiling, 'good night, you two.'

'Good night, send your grandmother a letter as soon as you can.' Harry smiled at him, waving to them before he and Blaise crept out of the kitchens and ran to their room without issue. The two of them always got nervous, Hermione and Neville had to go so far to get to their common rooms but they never complained, they said they were fine. But in Harry's eyes, it was only a matter of time before something happened.


	8. Chapter 8

'I can't believe you invited Neville over and not me.' Blaise sighed and leaned back in his seat, his eyebrows were furrowed together and a frown was firmly planted on his lips.

'I can't have too many people over at my house over break, and it's only for the first few days.' Harry answered, not even looking away from the window. The thought of seeing his mother again was exciting but he could feel the apathetic air his mother had fall over him the closer they got to the station.

'So? What about us? Shouldn't we come over too?' Hermione huffed and Blaise nodded, grinning as soon as she voiced her agreement. It was always to a plus to have Hermione on their own side of the argument.

'I don't have to go over if it bothers everyone.' Neville sunk into his seat, his cheeks warming with every comment.

'What! No!' Hermione glared at him, causing Neville's eyes to widen. 'You can't just not go! It'll be good for you to go to Harrys! It's just, I want to meet his mother too.' She frowned and crossed her arms.

'You want to meet my mother?' Harry finally looked away from the window, a look of pure disbelief was plastered on his face as he stared at the girl beside him. Not only had she already met his mother, but shockingly she hadn't mentioned anything about the books he owned. 'I thought you would have wanted to see all of the books she had or something, but whatever. If you don't want to.' He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before looking at Neville who was in front of him, winking at him just as Hermione gasped.

'How many books does she have?' Hermione's frizzy hair seemed to pop up as she grabbed onto his arm, staring at him with her curious brown eyes.

'No, it doesn't matter, don't worry about it.' Harry shook his head and hid his growing smile from her.

'Harry!' Hermione whined, pouting as she fell back on her seat. Blaise smirked at her, yelping when she kicked his shin with her foot.

'What was that for!' Blaise glared at her and rubbed his shin, somehow looking regal. Perhaps some people were just born with the ability to look like nobility in whatever they managed to do, and Harry supposed Blaise was one of them. Of course, Harry didn't realise that he was the exact same. It was the thing with people looking outwards and comparing themselves to others, they always fail to look in, and see themselves for what they truly were.

'I'm sorry!' Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, looking horrified. 'I was over excited, and then I just- I'm sorry!'

'It's alright,' Blaise raised his hands and Harry knew there was trouble as soon as his lips curled into a familiar grin and his eyes sparked with some horrible idea. 'I always knew you would hit on me.'

'Oh, I'll hit on you,' Hermione snapped, kicking him again, this time with absolutely no remorse. Neville rolled his eyes and shot Harry a look, Harry just raised his hands and shook his head before leaning against the window again.

'You can still meet my mother, she's picking us up today.' Harry glanced at Neville who nodded, clearly approving that Harry was stepping in. Unlike Harry,

'Really?' Hermione fixed her dusty pink blouse and smiled. Suddenly forgetting her battle against Blaise.

'Of course.' Harry smiled at her and blinked in surprise as she suddenly reached towards him and started adjusting his grey sweater so that it wasn't crooked.

'Sorry,' she said as she flushed and looked down at her fingers. Hermione had a habit of adjusting things she found annoying, so she was always fixing their hair, clothes, or ties so that they were perfect. She even moved around Harry's school supplies if he laid them down a way she didn't like.

'What's your mom like?' Neville spoke up and pulled at his brown chevron knit turtleneck, looking as if he were about to melt in a puddle of anxious goo

'What do you mean?' Harry frowned, trying to look anywhere but the turtleneck, just looking at it made him feel like he was choking. He could never stand them, and he tried for his mother he really did, but he just mentally could not handle them.

'Is there something I need to remember to do? What doesn't she like?'

'It doesn't matter.' Before Neville's green eyes could burst out of his head in anxiety Harry continued speaking, 'my mother isn't rule oriented. In fact, I think she forgets I need rules.' Harry smiled sheepishly and ran his fingers through his hair. Because it was true, really.

'Forgets rules?' Blaise looked amazed, 'I wish my mom would forget rules. It's a pity I won't be able to meet her,' he said as he huffed and rubbed his cheek absent-mindedly. 'My mother wants me to head straight to her and go home, there are things to do.'

'Well, better luck next time.' Hermione shrugged, but didn't look sympathetic at all. 'Ms. Pendragon, only has time for important people anyways.' She shot him a smug look and he rolled his eyes in retort, deciding wisely to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

'So, you're Neville.' Morgana looked down at Neville, one of her eyebrows was cocked as she observed him. Beads of sweat were practically lining the poor boys forehead as he fiddled with his fingers. 'I'm Morgana, Harry's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you.' She smiled at him and ruffled his dark blonde hair much like she had Harry's.

'Hello,' Neville flushed and smiled back at her. 'Hermione wants to see you.' He stuffed his hands into his baggy blue jeans and looked at Harry who grinned at him. Morgana looked like a queen in Neville's eyes and that just made him nervous. She stood with the same noble demeanour that many purebloods did and she was wearing what he was sure were designer muggle clothes.

Morgana had on a long black coat and a dark blue scarf was wrapped around her neck, making her blue eyes pop with colour. She also was wearing a pair of designed black, white, and blue pants and plain black shoes that he was sure came from out of country. Her dark brown, or maybe black, hair was coiffed in perfect curls and her lips were a startlingly red, making him think of the poisoned apple from Snow White. So much for no rules, Neville thought morosely, she looked like she breathed them. No wonder Hermione liked her so much.

'Ms. Pendragon!' Hermione exclaimed, running up with her luggage right behind her. 'It's nice to see you again.'

'It's nice to see you as well.' Morgana smiled proudly as if she were talking to her own daughter. 'I heard you got into Ravenclaw, how does the house suit you?'

'It's nice! Nobody really bothers each other.' Hermione chimed, panting from how much energy she had wasted to run over with all of her luggage.

'So, nobody talks at all,' Harry whispered to Neville who snickered.

'They all participate in proper communication, by reading alone,' Neville retorted, smiling at Hermione who was oblivious to their jokes.

'Be careful.' Morgana brushed her hair off of her shoulder as she spoke, 'the house of the eagles may be nice but the people are fickle. They prefer cold logic over loyalty, that's why they get along well with the Slytherins, both realise that nothing lasts forever.' Hermione's face dropped and Harry cleared his throat. 'Children, right,' Morgana mumbled to herself, 'not to say that you are not a good friend.' She placed her hand on Hermione's head, 'you are loyal and I have no doubt that you can find excellent friends in Ravenclaw if you keep our mind open. But remember the common flaw of the eagles lies within their hubris.'

'I thought that was the flaw for lions?' Neville piped up, thinking of Ron.

'It's the common flaw of most kids your age, you outgrow it but the smartest people have a harder time of it. Because they simply are the best of the crowd,' Morgana finished bluntly with a teasing smile. 'Where are your parents waiting for you, Hermione?'

'They aren't here, my aunt is here today.' Hermione grabbed her luggage with a sigh. 'They couldn't get off work.'

'Well, I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you afterwards.' Morgana smiled at her before starting to guide the trio out of the train station. She popped the trunk of her car and helped the boys get their stuff inside before slamming it shut. Sighing she watched as they said goodbyes that were filled with awkward hugging and promises of letters before Hermione went off to her aunt.

'This could be trouble.' Lily seemed to appear out of nowhere beside Morgana, invisible to everyone else. 'You'll have to be on your best behaviour.'

'Please, I'm always on my best behaviour.' She opened the door to the front seat and sat down, not blinking when Lily simply fazed into the passenger seat. Lily rolled her eyes not commenting on Morgana's habit to be detached and aloof. Morgana adjusted her seat as the boys both got into the back seat. She turned the key in the ignition vaguely listening to Harry explaining cars to Neville, instead she heard Lily cooing.

'Aren't they cute? Neville looked just like his parents! Look! He has green eyes, just like Harry! His cheeks are so chubby! Franks were just as big when he was a first year.' Lily clapped her hands and Morgana rolled her eyes, she got excitable so quickly. But really, that was to be expected since Lily couldn't get far from Morgana, and Morgana read more than anything else. She just wasn't suitable entertainment.

'Yes, yes, I get it,' Morgana muttered, not getting any attention from the boys in the back seat.

'This is the attitude I was talking about, you can't act that way with the boys.' Lily pointed her finger at Morgana accusingly. 'I swear, you're worse than Severus.'

'Mother.' Harry leaned forwards and Morgana sighed in relief, better to talk to Harry than Lily, at least she wouldn't look crazy when conversing with him.

'Yes?' Morgana chimed at the same time as Lily. She resisted the urge to smile at the way Lily grumbled. She would have to tell Harry about Lily's existence eventually but with Neville in their house? They had bigger problems if he caught on, which judging from Harry's expression, he thought he would. How troublesome, why would he invite someone over if it made him so nervous?

'What are we having for supper?'

'Why?' Morgana questioned focusing on the road, she had a feeling that he was going to ask for something.

'Can we have pizza? Neville's never had it.' Harry smiled at her with the same sweet smile Lily gave her when she was trying to convince her and Neville hopped in his seat, looking excited as well. Morgana sighed and smiled before nodding she really couldn't say no to that.

* * *

'Your house is so cool,' Neville walked in, his eyes shining with amazement. Harry's house was small, he supposed, but it felt more warm and welcoming than his manor. The entranceway had paintings from multiple eras and cultures hanging on the wall, and the floor was completely covered in hardwood as opposed to carpets. Both Harry and Morgana took off their shoes, placing little balls into each shoe before putting them away neatly into a shoe rack. 'What are these?' Neville sniffed the two small red plastic balls that Harry handed him.

'They are shoe fresheners, they keep your shoes smelling nice.' Harry picked up a pair of blue slippers that were shaped like boots and handed them to Morgana. Whilst he did so, Neville flushed and stuffed the little balls into his shoes, he couldn't believe he just sniffed them.

'Thank you, Harry,' Morgana said as she smiled at him before pulling the slippers on and walking down into living room. 'I'll get the fire on, you can take him to his room.' She called out before she disappeared from view. Neville stepped deeper in the house, immediately catching the spiced scent of apple cider, he wondered how much Harry and his mother put into Christmas because that was the only thing he noticed so far that was related to the holiday.

'Ah,' Harry nodded and made a sound of affirmation before leading Neville up the stairs that were to their left. All of the walls that were in the hallways, upstairs and downstairs were a neutral maroon and matched the houses homey feel.

'This is the guest room?,' Neville whispered to Harry as they entered an empty room. It was a simple room with pale yellow walls, a big wooden frame that had a comfy dark brown comforter on it, with pillows that had a grey, white, and brown pattern that matched it. There was a small bedside table with a lamp and a small digital clock. There were two doors opposite of the bed, which were opened to reveal an empty closet.

'Yes, this is where you will sleep.' Harry nodded and opened the window, his fingers brushing against the thick patterned drape that was secured beside the window with a metal hook. Neville dropped his luggage onto the bed, ahhing in amazement as he looked at more works of art. There was a beautiful painting above the bed of a tree with a buck underneath it. It had the same yellow to it as the walls and fit the room perfectly.

'There's so much art.'

'Mum has always liked collecting things, she has a lot of vases down stairs as well. That one is called Deer, it's by a korean painter called Kim Hongdo. I don't know how she got it, but apparently it's really old.' Harry shrugged, not thinking much of it. He had grown up surrounded by art, and had watched his mother's interest in it growing. He still remembered when she first noticed the art world, and how she had instantly started buying books on it and came home with paintings as time went on. They came and went, she traded them for whatever had caught her fancy but this was one of the few that stayed.

'My grandmother has a lot of stuff like this in our house as well, but it's all family heirlooms. She always scolds me when I get too close.' Neville flushed before looking out the door.

'Do you want to see my room?' Harry grinned when Neville nodded and rushed out, leading Neville to the room beside it. 'This is my room,' he said as he pushed open the door and laid his suitcase down on his bed, opening it immediately as Neville looked around.

Neville gaped at how organised it was, opposite the bed was a dark brown desk that had small lamp on the left corner and had every single item perfectly set. There was a set of cylindrical containers all stacked on each other containing different things such as paper clips, and tacks. There was also wax and a seal lying down on the top. As Harry was putting away his clothes Neville opened the top drawer to the desk and scoffed quietly in disbelief, inside was highlighters all perfectly lined up, beside them was an organised assortment of pens and fountain pens. Below that were some strange writing utensils that he recalled Harry called mechanical pencils, as well as erasers. Pulling open the drawer below that he could see a couple of separators, they divided up the blank paper, lined paper, parchment, and envelopes.

Harry looked over his shoulder at Neville and laughed quietly at the shocked look on his friends face. He supposed it wasn't something that most kids his age focused on, but like his mother said, a clean room is a clean mind. He couldn't afford having clutter stress, not with everything that was going on. Shaking those thoughts out of his mind he pulled out his school books and aligned them on the small bookshelf that was beside his desk, he bit his lip as he concentrated on making sure they were the standard length from the edge of the shelf.

'Do you have house elves to keep your room this organized?' Neville asked as he sat down on the swivel chair that was at Harry's desk.

'House elves?' Harry lifted an eyebrow, looking remarkably like Morgana, now that Neville had met her he could just how much she influenced Harry's actions. 'No, mother says that if we can't keep ourselves clean then we lack proper discipline. She's always stressing the importance of time management and responsibility.' He stood up and took out the rest of his books, resting them on his bed before he shoved his trunk underneath his bed. He dropped onto his bed and hugged one of his designed pillows to his chest. Beside the bed were sliding doors that were white and were almost see through, Neville could tell that was Harry's closet.

His bed was matched in the same way Neville's was, it had a patterned green and black quilt with pillow cases that went along with it. Since Harry's walls were grey with an almost blue tinge the light from outside shined in and lit up his room. He had only one bedside table, unlike Neville, though it also had a lamp and a clock. It had a small niche below the top that had a kleenex box, two medicine bottles, one looked like a pain bottle and the other seemed to be for colds, and a chapstick. 'No art?' Neville questioned after finding that Harry's walls were empty except for an old looking map that hung on the wall that the door was on, opposite from the window.

'No,' Harry shook his head, 'I never really found an interest in it like my mother had.' He patted the spot on his bed beside him, 'do you want to sit down or look through the rest of the house?'

'The rest of the house?' Neville flushed and Harry grinned at him before nodding.

'Alright.' Getting up he walked out of the room before pointing to two doors. 'This is the washroom.' He opened the door and pointed to a set of grey towels that were sitting on the counter. 'Those are yours, big towel for your body, and a face cloth. The red towels are mine, you can use the shampoo and conditioner that are in the shower.' Neville was again struck by how modern and organized the room looked. 'That door is to my mom's room, needless to say you don't go in there,' Harry scratched his head as if thinking of what else there was to point out upstairs.

'Come on.' Harry guided Neville down the wooden stairs again, his hand was barely hovering over the handrails as he rushed down. He stopped at the first door to their right. 'This is another bathroom.' He continued on down the hall, stopping at a few paintings to tell Neville where they were from, or who made them, sometimes he pointed out when they were made and Neville was shocked to hear that some came from the 16th century.

'She get's them through trading?' He whispered in admiration, she had to be one heck of a woman if she could get people to give up such old works of art so easily.

'Yup.' Harry popped the p before walking into a living room, the kitchen was across from it but the dining room table was between the two like an intermediary. 'The kitchens over there, you can have whatever you like, there is juice and milk in fridge and water in the tap. Since it's Christmas we always have apple cider ready.' He pointed to a white crock pot that was laying on one of the counters. 'Cups are here,' he said as he opened a cabinet to the left of the sink. 'Do you want anything now?' Neville noticed a door by the kitchen that was open just enough for him to see stairs that were leading down into some basement, he ignored his curiosity and focused instead on Harry's question.

'No,' Neville shook his head before following Harry back out into the living room, taking note of how Harry pushed the door closed without mention of the room inside. The first thing he noticed was that the room was absolutely filled with bookshelves. Some of the nooks had vases dabbed in an organized manner throughout it. The books in each shelf all seemed to be positioned the same way as Harry's book shelf with each lined up perfectly. There was a couch and three arm chairs as well as a small box of some kind off to the side. In the middle of the wall was a fireplace that was crackling away. Above the fireplace was a little built in cabinet that had some vases on either side of it.

Morgana was sitting in a leather armchair reading an old looking book. Her slippers were tapping against a rug that was in the center of the seats, perfectly aligned. In Neville's mind the whole place was asking for trouble. If Harry didn't say he lived there then Neville would have assumed it was a show house or something, just there to look nice. So much for not much rules, he felt like if he made one wrong move his grandmother would appear out of nowhere and scold him.

'Hermione would be so jealous of me right now.' Neville managed to get out as he sat down on the couch, catching sight of a Christmas tree nestled in the only space not taken over by books.

'I know.' Harry laughed heartily before taking the seat opposite to Neville.

'What do you guys do?' Neville asked, he didn't see any games, no gobstones, wizards chess, cards, anything.

'We have a normal chess set, we have some board games we play, we watch movies sometimes.' Harry nodded to the big box in the corner of the room. 'We read a lot. Mum helps me study things, every day was always dedicated to something. My favourite was always-right!' Harry stood up and went to the bookshelf, muttering to himself before he pulled out an old book. 'My favourite was always Saturdays, mum would let me look into the Old Religion.' He handed the book to Neville who looked at it with a suspicious look.

'Are you and Hermione trying to drag me into the book worm club?' Neville said it as a joke, but he really was completely serious. Hermione was always hounding them to read more, Harry was always reading anyways, and suddenly he was getting a book handed to him.

'No, I just thought you would want to read that book.' Harry pointed out the title and instantly Neville gaped, choking on his own breath.

'Are you serious?'

'Yeah, you can have it. I found it the other day, it's a duplicate of a book we already have.' Harry smiled fully, enjoying the feeling of warmth he got from watching Neville look so happy.

'B-but, these books were supposed to be destroyed!'

'Please.' Morgana's airy laughter caught Neville's attention. 'I would never let such important books be destroyed. It doesn't matter what the outside world says, these are imperative for growth.'

'Yeah,' Neville retorted as if thinking otherwise was the stupidest idea in the world. He instantly hugged it to his chest. 'I never thought I'd ever see a copy of the Druids Apothecary in my life!' The book Harry had handed him was part of millions that had been destroyed by the Wizarding world and Muggle world alike. It was one of the books that contained information about the Druids take on plants, as well as their uses, whether they were for healing or poison didn't matter. Which was why it was outlawed by Wizards, they deemed it too dangerous, bordering on dark magic, since when has taking care of plants been dark? Of course, he never had the guts to say that to his grandmother.

'You can have it,' Morgana beamed proudly, shooting Harry an approving look. Any boy who appreciated the Old Religion was a keeper in her eyes.

'Really? B-but I have nothing to give in return!' Neville swivelled in the spot to look at her with wide begging eyes. He wanted the book more than anything but he thought there was no price for such a book.

'All I ask is that you don't betray my son, remain loyal, and keep him safe. But-' She shrugged and closed her book. 'Is that not what any mother wants? Neville, you were always meant to be friends with Harry, it's only natural that you two have sought each other out.'

'Mom,' Harry whined, she sounded like she was about to go onto one of her tirades about balance and how the world wasn't at equilibrium and how it was going to rip everything they knew to shreds. He hated when she started on one of those rants.

'I know.' Morgana smiled and shook her head. 'The pizza will be here soon, why not you two clean up.'

'Okay, thank you,' Harry smiled at her before waving Neville over. Neville looked at the book and reluctantly put it down on the table beside the couch.

'Harry, what's a movie?' Neville questioned as they walked to the bathroom.

'It's….You know how Hermione and I talk about electricity? How it powers things? Like this light.' Harry flipped the switch for the light in the bathroom. 'It's electricity that powers it, that box you see is powered as by electricity as well. When it is being powered it projects moving and talking pictures onto the screen. It's like a photo that moves for hours and talks as well, except it doesn't have it's own entity like wizarding photo's, they don't do what they like.' Harry turned on the tap and started washing his hands, giving Neville space to wash his hands as well. 'They do whatever they were doing when they were recorded. And that's a movie.'

'That's interesting.' Neville dried his hands off as the doorbell went. He didn't really understand, but he figured he's find out eventually. Morgana swept by the bathroom door and spoke with someone. Instantly Neville's mouth watered as he smelt food. 'Who was that?'

'The pizza man, we gave him our orders and then he delivers us our food.' Harry grinned as his mother walked by with two white rectangular boxes. 'Those hold our pizza.' He walked to the kitchen and got out three plates before putting them down at the table as his mother put the boxes down onto to heat pads so that heat from the pizza wouldn't warp the table. 'Do you want something to drink?'

'Water?' Neville piped up, Morgana said the same so Harry brought out a pitcher of water and three glasses, he filled them with water as he handed them out before setting the pitcher down on the table. 'So, what are these?' He leaned in towards the two round circles. Each pizza was cut into triangular slices and had some sort of sauce on the round bread, cheese, and different condiments like peppers and meats.

'This is the crust of the pizza,' Harry picked up one of the slices as he pointed to the bread part of it, grinning at the cheese that stretched as he picked it up. His mother slid him and Neville a cloth napkin each, making sure they would keep the house clean.

'The bread?'

'Yeah,' Harry nodded before putting the piece he had selected onto his mother's plate, knowing she wanted it. 'The pizza I just got was meat lovers, it has bacon, sausage, and beef.' He picked up another slice and put it on his plate, Neville did the same. 'The other pizza is vegetarian, but we get ham on it too. So it also has peppers, tomatoes, and onions.' From the way Harry's face lit up Neville could tell it was his favourite. Harry put one of them on his mother's plate then his own.

They ate in silence, other than Neville's constant comments on how much he loved pizza and how he couldn't believe he hadn't had it before. By the time they finished their slices Morgana had brought out a bowl of veggies for all of them and was already eating her own as she sat down. 'Do you eat at the table every night?' He questioned as he bit into some broccoli.

'Every meal.' Harry nodded before shooting his mother an accusatory look. 'Unless someone is busy.'

Morgana rolled her eyes, a small smile was still pulling at her lips,.'I do have work.'

'Not really.' His mother had more than enough money to sustain them, especially since she got a hold of the Potter vaults. So the work she claimed she did was more reading. She was always looking into how to get her magic back, they both were.

'Are you magical?' Neville questioned obvious to their families troubles with the very subject. He got nervous as Morgana's eyebrows lifted as her jaw shifted, making her look the picture of annoyed. 'Sorry.'

'No, to be honest, I was magical.' Her nose flared as she spoke. 'We're working on fixing that.'

'Oh.' Neville shifted in his seat uncomfortably, he wondered if it was from a wizards sickness. Sometimes they could strip someone about their abilities, or swearing on their magic had the same effect, if they broke the promise. The only other way he could of were dark rituals that were long forgotten. But, his gaze shot to the books in which many looked like they belonged to the Old Religion, no, Harry's mother couldn't be playing around with dangerous stuff. He felt an ill warming in his stomach, something seemed to click in his mind but he didn't know what.

'Let's watch a movie,' Harry picked up his bowl of veggies and walked to the tv. 'We have Born Yesterday?'

'Sure,' Neville smiled at his friend before looking at the leftovers.

'I'll clean it up,' Morgana smiled at him, shooing him off. She watched as he walked into the living room, talking with her son. How long would it be until the penny dropped?

* * *

'I don't get it mom.' Harry sighed, closing his eyes as his mother ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.

'It makes perfect sense,' Morgana disagreed, 'when your teacher started talking about the ill treatment of house elves he was angering the Old Religion. That got you upset as well, the Old Religion was more of a catalyst for your feelings, but you already angry.'

'But why did nobody else react?' Harry huffed and looked at the door as if Neville would appear and interrupt them. 'Why did nobody else feel the Old Religion?'

'The wizards of this day and age are oblivious to the Old Religion, they have cut it out of their lives so much that few believe in it. What little they do remember is superstition, called fate.' She sighed and watched as Harry buried his head into her pillow. 'If any of them practiced it, they would feel it, and since you have been doing some things for me, and yourself.' She shot him a look, he just shot her a grin. 'You've gotten used to the Old Religion.'

'The school is absolutely covered in it.' Harry eyes lit up as he recalled the feeling he got when he first saw the school. 'It was like an instant overdose.'

'I would say so. The school was built, after all, by the Old Religion, the four founders were devout followers. The land Hogwarts was built on is ancient land as well, it was an old temple for the Old Religion before Uther,' the name was said with such malice that Harry himself felt angry hearing it. Though that was partly because he hated the man as well. 'Destroyed as much as he could.'

'But how could he be able to? Wouldn't the Old Religion defend itself?'

'Harry, the Old Religion may surround us, it may be in everything, but it is not something that is solid, it can not curse on it's own, or act on it's own. It is only able to work through us. So, no, it could not.'

'Do you think Neville can feel it?' Harry questioned as he played with the edge of a pillow case. 'Our house is like Hogwarts, it has the feeling of the Old Religion as well.'

'No, I don't think he can. Because I don't think he wants to.' Morgana let out a short laugh. 'If he did he would be in for a shock. I have no doubt that if he gave an inkling of interest, the Old Religion would overwhelm him, it is restless and is eager for people to recognize it again.'

'Just a want of the Old Religion would call it?' Harry frowned never remembering hearing such things before.

'Not anywhere, but places like here and Hogwarts? Yes, it would, because the Old Religion is already present, it just needs to be recognized.'

'Then maybe you just need to call it.' Harry sat up and stared at his mother seriously. 'I want you to get your magic back.'

'Harry-'

'I don't care that Neville is here! We can do it in the basement! I just-' Harry ruffled his hair. 'It's not fair that Merlin took your magic.'

'He didn't choose to, the Old Religion did. It guided him to do what he did.' Morgana sighed and looked at the ceiling. She had long since forgiven Merlin, much to her surprise, but that didn't mean that she was happy to lose the one thing that connected her to home.

'That doesn't matter.' Harry opened the door and looked out before looking back at her when he noticed the hallway was empty. 'Come on!'

'Harry.' She sighed and got up, obliging her son with his whims. When they got downstairs he pulled out the things needed. 'What if your friend comes down.'

'Then he comes down, besides, someone has to know who you are in my group before you burst into the school.'

'Excuse me?' Her eyebrows shot up at his scolding tone.

'Sorry.' He smiled at her sheepishly before moving the rug out of the way. 'Maybe I should get Neville first? He might freak out if the first thing he sees is this.' Harry looked down at the chalk design on the hardwood and the candles he had placed down. It did look like some dark ritual to the wrong eyes.

'You're sure you want to do it right now?'

'I have a good feeling about this, I know it's going to work.' Harry nodded, looking determined. 'But it just doesn't make sense to do it where Neville will see.' He dropped down on the couch and sighed.

'Go to bed.'

'I want to see,' Harry shook his head before smiling at his mom, 'please?'

'Alright, fine.' Morgana sighed and smiled at him as she sat down in the circle. 'Keep an eye out.'

'Of course!' Harry grinned and settled into the couch watching as the candles flickered to life and the lights died out, he certainly had a good feeling about this.

 

'Good morning,' Harry beamed at Neville as his friend stumbled down the stairs. Perhaps stumbling wasn't the right description, rather, his friend bumbled down the stairs looking as aimless as a bee stuck in a bottle, unaware that there was an exit.

'Morning, Harry.' Neville yawned and rubbed his eyes as he sat down on the couch. He relaxed as the warmth of the fire spread over him with a comforting heat. Just like every other night in the Pendragon house, Neville had a very restful sleep, one with a dream full of budding ancient plants that he had never seen pictures to before. They grew in his dreams, whispering promises of discovery, reminding him of the book that laid on the bedside table.

'I have something to tell you.' Harry sat down opposite to Neville and handed Neville a mug of cider.

'Now?' Neville's mouth opened, his tongue curling up to the roof of his mouth as he failed to restrain a second yawn.

'Now, it'll wake you up.' Harry ran his free hand through his hair, the mug of cider did nothing to calm him despite being his favourite drink. 'But first, what do you know of Morgan Le Faye?' There were two definite differences between the boys' energies. Harry's was anxious and ready to burst, whereas Neville's was still quite lethargic and seemed oblivious to Harry's nerve fueled wakefulness.

'She was evil, wasn't she? Got killed by Merlin, she's on a frog card but it doesn't say a lot about her.' Neville's eyes were lidded, barely staying open as he smelled the cider like he was waiting for it to wake him up.

'Anything else?' Harry drank some of his apple cider, almost wishing that it would burn his tongue, because then he wouldn't be so nervous. He would be in too much pain to notice the anxiety that was flooding his body.

'She was a master of the Old Religion, heard she was in Ravenclaw?'

'She was a Ravenclaw, but she wasn't a master of the Old Religion, she was a High Priestess. Morgana also wasn't totally evil. She was however passionate and was willing to do whatever she had to, and well she was pushed by her sister…. She also wasn't killed by Merlin, instead Merlin stripped her of all of her magic, and cursed her.' Harry ran his hand through his hair again. 'With me.'

'Cursed her, with you?' Neville frowned looking confused, but Harry could see that Neville understood, he had understood for a long time but he just never admitted it.

'My mother is Morgana Pendragon.' Neville blinked slowly, not looking nearly as tired as before.

'Not Morgan Le Fay?'

'Morgan Le Fay does not exist, that was a creation of Merlin. At their final confrontation Merlin stripped Morgana of her magic then sent her into the future with the prerogative of saving me. After she disappeared Merlin adjusted everything the world knew about her so that Morgana could adjust to this world without blind prejudice because of her past. So he called her Morgan Le Fay and he made people think she had light brown hair, but really she had dark brown hair, really dark brown hair.' Harry added, to be honest when he was young he always thought her hair was black, and always said that she did when he was in school.

'You're telling me your mother is Morgan Le Fay, except not?' Neville frowned and finally took a dip of his cooling cider. 'I'm definitely awake now.' The young Longbottom heir had no clue what to say other than that. What else was there to say when a friend claimed that their parent was a notorious villain, one more renowned than You-Know-Who himself?

Harry let out a sharp laugh. 'Yeah. I thought you would be.'

'I-' Neville paused and looked lost. 'I don't know what to say. Should I be afraid?' Neville looked at Harry with genuinely inquisitive eyes, he really was wondering what he should be feeling.

'No.' Harry laughed and shook his head. 'No you shouldn't. My mother really isn't evil. When I said she was cursed with me, I mean that Merlin attached her to me somehow. Her curse was the need to help me, and-' Harry shifted awkwardly. 'Love me.' It was weird to think that the whole situation was created to instill love into Morgana, even more so to tell his friend that. But he knew that he could trust her, and that she loved him, curse or not.

'Alright, I trust you.' Neville gulped down his cider, pausing before he spoke up. 'Do the others know?' He refrained from asking if that meant that he could no longer say Merlin's beard, or other Merlin related exclamations. It just didn't seem to fit with the conversation.

'Not at all.' Harry rubbed the mug with his thumb as he frowned at Neville. He really was taking the new information far too easily. Was that normal? Harry had no idea, he doubted his idea of normal compared to even the strange world of wizards. 'Are you sure you're okay with this?'

'I guess I'll know when I see your mother,' Neville mumbled as he lifted his mug to his lips, looking nothing like the bashful version of himself he showed at school. He truly had changed a lot since the beginning of the year. He consistently said his own view constantly and had cut down on the blushing, though he did still get bashful at random moments. 'I just.' Neville lowered his mug and looked Harry directly in the eyes. 'I truly meant it when I said I trust you. If you trust her, then I will too, because you trust her.'

'Thank you,' Harry smiled at Neville and put his empty mug down. It was nice to know that his friend trusted him so explicitly. He never imagined that he would get such strong trust from anyone, though he cynically wondered how long it would last. After all, Morgana had thought that she could trust Merlin with everything, and yet the young warlock failed her.

'So, Morgana is going to get the Potter seat?' Neville shifted on the couch, looking amused. 'That's going to surprise everyone, is she going to have any other seats? Is there a Le Faye seat? Or Pendragon?'

'No, Merlin created the Le Faye lineage, and the Pendragon's were a muggle family line. They were royalty, but not wizards. The only way she would get a seat from another family would be if someone else gave it to her, though, I'm not sure who her mother is.' Harry frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, he had never actually thought about the identity of his grandmother. 'Even if we knew who she was, I don't know if there would be a lineage there. Morgana's side of the family were High Priestess' and Priests. They weren't involved in the government, they were above it.'

'Oh.' Neville deflated, he was hoping that Morgana would have some other seats to claim. That would have been a huge blow to the wizarding world, and he imagined it would be funny when everything became common knowledge.

'I don't think that mom would want any other seats though, she may want to change the wizarding world but she's never been the type to take the reins. Even when she was Queen, she allowed her sister to make the big choices.' Harry shrugged, personally agreeing with his mother's views. Ruling a whole kingdom would be far too much effort, though he supposed if there was enough reason he would do it. Just like how he knew his mother would take the lead in the revolution if she felt every other person was inept, which, he had no doubt that she would.

'When is she going to let everyone know who she is?' Neville looked over his shoulder nervously, as if Morgana would pop up out of nowhere and scold him.

'I don't know, we haven't really discussed it. But, I have no doubt that it would need to be something major.' Harry leaned against the couch, sinking into the cloth cushions. 'Like, I don't know, a basilisk at school.'

Neville snorted and shot Harry an incredulous look. 'And where would a basilisk come from?'

'Exactly.' Harry shot him a grin. 'She's planning on revealing herself after my seventh year, where I'll be able to support her, and after she would have gained reputation while controlling the Potter seats during our school years. The only way that's going to change is if something major happens. If I were her I would change my mind when I got bored, but mum has more self-control than me.'

'Harry,' Neville said as he looked at the bookcases. The Longbottom heir knew it was off topic but he suddenly had an idea, one spurned by what the twins had done in November.

'Yeah?'

'You know what you said about there being no rules?' Neville smiled and looked at his younger friend. 'How serious were you about that?'

* * *

Morgana sighed and stuffed her hands into her expensive coats pockets, her meeting with the Ms. Bones had gone quite well. Everything was going well, and it seemed that the kids were doing their jobs well. If they were lucky then everything would be wrapped up in time for the kids to be back at school. Maybe then Harry could finish his school year without giving her a heart attack.

'What could they be up to,' she mused as she looked up at the blue sky that was mottled with heavy grey clouds. She had no doubt that it would snow, and just in time for Christmas too. Morgana sighed and looked down at the pavement, she found that many things reminded her of her past life, but nothing pained her more than the snow. She remembered how her sister had welcomed her when she left Camelot, how she had made an amazing allusion to the snow, using it to show Morgana how she would thrive, and survive despite her trials. She used it to encourage her to become stronger, and now her sister was dead.

If Morgana were to be completely honest, part of her said good riddance. If not for her sister she would not have been so jaded, she wasn't oblivious to the fact that her personality had started to emulate her sisters the more time she spent with her. She hadn't missed how she had become colder and more angry at the world. She noticed the growing importance she placed on strength and power. If she were weaker, maybe she would blame her sister for the bad decisions she made, but she knew it was her fault as well. She was to blame for letting herself be changed. She was to be blamed for letting anger, and bitterness warp her. Sighing Morgana walked into her house, only to raise her eyebrows in mute surprise.

Morgana liked thinking that she could read people and their actions, before they even did them. But she most certainly had not read the boys doing that while she was gone. Raising her dainty fingers to her mouth she hid her amused smile as she watched the two boys look at her with matching expressions of nervous anticipation. No doubt they expected her to blow up and get angry at them, that's what any other parent would have done after all.

'And what are you two getting up to?' Morgana questioned, making sure that the door was shut and locked behind her before she walked towards them. The sound of clacking sounded, following after her.

'We, were, uh,' Neville stuttered out before blushing and lowering his eyes to look at the ground. 'Playing?'

'This is playing?' She questioned as she approached what had been her old coat rack that was set to be given away. In the amount of time she had been gone the two boys had decided to bring out her books on the Old Religion and play around. To them, that meant trying to transfigure it into an animal. To be specific, a lion, or at least, that's what she thought that's what they were aiming for. Because in the middle of the room was a little lion cub the colour of her faded coat rack, that had what looked like wooden claws. In fact, by the sound of clacking the cub was making as it ran away from the door towards the couch, she was positive that the claws were wood.

'I thought it would be fun.' Neville wilted under her serious gaze, ignoring the adorable lion cub that was prancing on his lap, begging for his attention.

'Yes, well, Harry. You know what I've always told you.' Morgana put away her coat and bag in the closet before walking to the living room, sitting down on the couch.

'Don't practice unless someone else is with you,' Harry answered smoothly before picking up the lanky lion cub, gently petting it's head. 'Neville is someone else.'

'So he is.' She finally smiled and willingly took their project out of Harry's arms when he offered it to her. Morgana gently pet it, observing it. 'Well, you two certainly did a good job. Well done.' She nodded approvingly before shooting them a proud look. She didn't miss the confused look on Neville's face, the poor boy still expected her to blow up. 'Don't look so terrified, I'm not angry. I would have preferred for you two to wait for me, but you did an excellent job for your first piece of magic with the Old Religion's support.'

'Really?' Neville exhaled, his face looking a little less like someone had caked it in blush.

'Yes.' Morgana nodded and watched as Harry sent his friend a reassuring look, she could almost hear the told you so, in his eyes. Those two were really meant to be friends, she could see it in the way they acted. There was a sense of familiarity that she remembered when she first met Mordred, of course, neither of them were in danger with the government or had a wound so it wasn't the exact same, but that connection was still there. The two of them also had the same kind of eyes, Harry's eyes were a bright and conniving green, whereas Neville's were a more subdued dark green, yet they still held the promise of trouble. Normally having the same colour eyes wasn't some miraculous sign, but it certainly seemed that way to her. 'What did you name her?' She questioned as she rubbed the cub's stomach, smirking as it readily purred.

'Her? We thought it was a he,' Harry frowned and looked at the cub as if it had betrayed him. 'I wanted to call him Sniper.'

'Sniper?' Neville repeated looking mortified. 'No way! He was totally going to be called Key!'

'Key? What does that have to do with anything?' Harry scoffed and shot his friend a look of disbelief before muttering under his breath about that kind of name making his cub a wimp.

'Well, your cub is a girl, so you two should start thinking up some girl names.' Morgana stood up and placed the cub down on the couch. It mewled in disappointment before quickly gaining interest in one of the strings that was hanging off of Harry's shirt.

'What about Esmeralda?' Harry picked up the cub and smiled as she started licking his fingers. Despite being partially wood, she had a soft tongue and saliva. He wondered what else she had, if she even had to be fed. Maybe if she wasn't completely alive then he could bring her to school, say she's a toy.

'No, not happening.' Neville shook his head.

'I don't see why not, we could call her Sparky!' Harry grinned and tickled under her chin.

'Not happening,' Morgana called from the kitchen as she got herself some water. Apparently she hadn't done the best job at raising him because all of his ideas of names were truly not that good. 'Are your friends coming over for the Christmas celebrations?'

'No, Hermione has a family get together tomorrow, and Blaise has parties for the next while.' Harry deflated, looking as upset as Neville who was staring blankly at the fireplace. The four of them had been hoping to get together but it just didn't look like it was going to happen, they had planned to exchange gifts on the Hogwarts Express, but it just wasn't the same. Or at least, they knew it wasn't going to be.

'Perhaps we should be planning something for next year then.' Morgana sat down at her usual high back leather chair, placing the cup she was holding down upon a coaster.

'I don't know if my grandmother will let me spend another Christmas away.' Neville deflated, slowly petting the cub that had sauntered onto his lap. 'She only let me come this year because there was something going on with Uncle Algie, apparently Aunt Enid didn't want me over for whatever was happening.'

'We could just do our own small party, it doesn't have to be on Christmas day, and you don't have to stay the night.' Harry bargained as if Neville actually had a choice in his grandmothers decision.

'I'll see,' Neville shrugged before looking at Morgana, feeling intimidated when he remembered that she was the Morgana. 'How did your meeting go?' He asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. He could see it now, the way she sat as if she were royalty, the reason why she emitted power and a sense of ability. He could see it in the way her light blue eyes stared into him, as if she was calculating his worth.

'It went well, Ms. Bones will be gathering more evidence before she goes to the school. She has taken the hair in to be checked, and then they will decide what to do.' Morgana brushed her hair out of her face, she wondered how long Neville would be awkward around her. Because of the age Harry was at when she told him, he thought it was cool instead of intimidating. Then again, Harry had never been normal in her eyes, he was always superior to other people his age. There was no way a son of hers, blood or not, would be any other way.

'You won't have a hand in it at all?' Harry frowned, he had long forgotten his annoyance over possible names for the cub.

'I don't need to, however, my name will be at the top of the complaint list, that much is for certain. Mrs. Zabini has been kind enough to offer being the one suggesting I take the Potter seat at the Wizengamot, as I should, after Ms. Bones eliminates the threat at Hogwarts.'

'That way it'll look less like you're going after the seat for power.' Neville finished, amazed by his own deductive ability in terms of politics. Maybe he had been listening to his grandmother speak more than he thought.

'Precisely.' Morgana nodded, shooting him another proud look, which only lead to the boy blushing. He had done something to make Morgana proud of him. 'You are aware that you cannot take your cub with you to school.'

'Yeah.' Harry frowned and poked the little cub in the stomach. 'Can you take her?'

'No, my grandmother would kill me.' Neville sighed and ran his hand down the cub's back. 'She'd freak out too, might notice the magic residue on her.'

'She won't,' Morgana disagreed instantly. 'The wizards of this day and age cannot sense the Old Religion, not like they could. No matter how powerful they are.'

'Okay.' Neville nodded before looking at his and Harry's creation with awe. Not only had he created her out of his own ability, but nobody else would be able to tell how she was made. That was amazing to him, that the most powerful wizards were still oblivious to a force like the Old Religion, in fact, it almost bordered on insanity for him. How could they lose a magic as powerful as that? With that thought he decided that he would learn about the Old Religion with Harry, he wanted to make sure it was never lost.

* * *

Christmas with the Pendragons had gone by smoothly for Neville. There was no exchanging of presents at all, instead they all gathered in the living room, and talked about what they were thankful for, then after much hassling, the boys had gotten Morgana to tell them stories about her past life. After they talked Morgana had taken them out to a movie, the zoo even, then she took them out for dinner at an Italian restaurant. He knew that Harry had given his mother some gifts before Neville joined them that morning, but he was surprised to hear that Morgana had gotten the quartet gifts as well, and that Harry wanted the four of them to open all of their gifts on the train.

Neville had in fact learned more about the Old Religion, but instead of spells Morgana had taught him how to notice it. Harry had jokingly griped about having to do the meditation lessons again with Neville, but he encouraged his friend the whole way, promising to teach him as much as he could at school. Which Neville hadn't missed the look that Morgana had shot Harry, obviously not liking the idea of him playing with such powerful magic at a place where she knew none of the adults had a clue about the Old Religion, let alone it's magic.

'So.' Morgana put her hands on her hips, looking at both boys closely. 'You will be careful, yes?'

'Yes, mum!' Harry smiled at her and Neville nodded silently. She still seemed extremely intimidating to him, but at the same time there was a comfort to her. She always treated him warmly and acted the way he thought a mother would, how his mother would. Not coldly and full of scoldings like his grandmother.

'You'll hold your tongues, be wise in what you say,' she continued lecturing them, oblivious to the amused look Harry shot Neville. Like Harry had told Neville that morning, Morgana was treating Neville like a family member. That included the long farewell. 'Don't agitate your teachers, they are there to guide you, and they are the higher power. Respect them, whether or not they respect you. What else? I would say don't get in trouble, but that should be obvious.' She shot them an agitated look. She still couldn't believe that they got in trouble with a troll.

'Yes, Aunt Morgana,' Neville drawled, looking at her nervously when she stared at him blankly. Harry had told him to call her that, but suddenly she had a feeling that it was a bad idea. Maybe he should stop listening to what Harry tells him to do.

'Did I say you could call me that?' She drew out her words as she leaned towards him, making the young boy flush in embarrassment before drawing back.

'N-no,' he shook his head, shooting a glare at Harry who had snorted before looking away as if something interesting had caught his attention.

'Well, perhaps I should have.' Morgana mused before running her fingers through the young boys dark blond locks. 'I've never been an Aunt before.'

'Really?' Neville looked at her wide-eyed, feeling appreciation at how she warm she was treating him, he even got a hair ruffle like what she gave Harry.

'Go on, your friends will be waiting.' Morgana stood up straight, smiling when Harry hugged her.

'I'll miss you mom,' Harry said into her coat, reminding her of how he had said goodbye to her the first day of school.

'I'll miss you too.' She hugged him back before looking at Neville. 'Do you want a hug as well?'

'Can I?' Neville looked down at his feet, smiling when he felt Morgana hug him. He relaxed and hugged her back, his grandmother rarely hugged him, and when she did it never felt like this hug had. Morgana's hug was warm and smelt like apple cider, it felt like how he imagined a hug with his mother would have felt. He sniffled at the thought, recalling his drawer full of candy wrappers. He doubted he would ever get a chance to hug his mother.

'It will all work out in the end.' Morgana pulled away and ran her fingers through the pudgy boys hair, rubbing his scalp lightly. Somehow Neville knew she was talking about his parents, he didn't wonder how she knew, instead he smiled at her, hoping she could feel how thankful he was for what she had done. 'Go make me proud.' She patted his shoulder before standing up straight. 'You too. Morgana ran her hand through Harry's hair as well.

'I love you.' Harry flushed as he glanced at his friend, feeling embarrassed with how sentimental he was being with his mother.

'Thank you for letting me come over, Auntie.' Neville blushed as well, saying his farewells to her before the two boys went onto the train. 'Morgana's nice,' he said as they sat down in unison in their compartment.

'I know.' Harry smiled thankfully at Neville, he couldn't have imagined the whole situation going any better. He really was lucky to have a friend like Neville. He was worried that his friend might have been scared of his mother, or even have told everyone, but instead he supported them.

'Happy Christmas!' Hermione ran into the room, a frazzled Blaise following her in. 'I have presents!' She sat down beside Neville and instantly dug into her bag, eager to give out her presents. 'How was everyone's holidays? Mine was amazing! I could have done without the family dinner, but at least there were no fights!'

'Slow down,' Blaise huffed and looked at Neville and Harry with an exasperated expression. 'She's been like this since I ran into her,' he hissed to them, low enough that she couldn't hear. Blaise usually didn't mind Hermione being so excited, but he had just finished an overwhelming amount of pure-blood parties, and was thoroughly fed up, especially since neither Harry, nor Neville went to any. Both boys had made good excuses, ones that didn't even get Harry in trouble with the rest of the Slytherins. But that didn't make Blaise feel any better.

'Is it wrong to want to give out presents?' Hermione snapped, catching on to what Blaise was saying. Without waiting for his answer she handed out three moderately sized boxes. Harry in turn took out two larger boxes, giving them to Hermione and Blaise.

'I already gave Neville his, and, these are from my mom as well.' Harry explained, taking the bag Neville handed him, and the box Blaise passed to him. So, the four students opened their gifts. Hermione had given them all chocolate frogs as well as some self-inking quills for school. Since she had discovered the quills she had fallen in love, and had promptly bought the boys personalised ones. Neville had also gotten them chocolate, as well as notebooks for Hermione, anti-thievery charm for Harry because he roomed with Blaise, and had gotten said thief a book on kleptomaniacs, and how to tame them.

'Really?' Blaise held up the book with an amused smile, looking over at Harry who was playing with the charm, trying to decide where it would be best to put it. 'I'm not that bad!'

'Yes you are,' Harry spoke up, looking at Blaise. 'Theodore still has no idea that you were the one who took his shoelaces, why would you even want shoelaces?'

'Daphne dared me.' Blaise shrugged, looking completely unbothered. He didn't view his habit as a problem, instead, it as more a sense of amusement. Plus, most of the time he genuinely thought the thing was his, he was just so absent-minded that he didn't notice that his things looked completely different. Without saying anything more he opened Harry's gift, gaping instantly. 'Is this really it?'

'The Origins of the Old Religion?' Harry nodded, before looking at Hermione who was unwrapping her. 'Hermione's got the companion for it, I figured you two could borrow the other's, they go together.' Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at the book, it was on the declination of the use of the Old Religion, and focused on cultural influences as well as philosophy of the time. As opposed to Blaises that covered how it began, was nurtured, and how the it was structured for the followers.

'My gifts are tame compared to this,' Blaise looked at the book admiringly, 'Neville, what did you get?'

'Don't tell anyone, but, it was the Druid's Apothecary.' As soon as he said it Blaise hugged Harry and Hermione gasped scandalously.

'I heard about that book, it's banned!' Hermione glanced at the compartment doors as if someone was going to barge in.

'I can't believe you had it!' Blaise grinned looking extremely excited. 'What other things do you have?'

'I don't have anything, it's my mother,' Harry smiled back at his friend, not bothered by how tense Hermione was. 'Hermione, before you get upset, read the book I gave you.' There was a reason why Harry had given her the book he had, and it wasn't just because he knew she enjoyed reading about advancements made in cultures. He knew it would open her eyes to the truth about the Old Religion. The fact that it wasn't something to be feared, but rather, it was something to be appreciated, and looked at with an open mind. It wasn't something to be considered in black and white, good and bad.

'If you're sure.' Hermione looked less than pleased and hesitantly opened the book, already burrowing her head into it.

'Alright, it's clear.' Harry glanced out of the compartment before grinning at Neville who smirked back.

'Great.' Neville reached into his bag and pulled out the struggling lion cub. 'There you are,' he cooed as he scratched underneath her chin.

'What is that.' Hermione slammed the book shut instantly, looking at the cub beside her with a gaping mouth.

'A coat rack.' Harry's lips curled into a small smile, well aware that his comment sounded snarky to the people oblivious that their little cub had in fact (and still kind of was) a coat rack.

'A coat rack?' Blaise repeated slowly, taking the cub from Neville with no hesitation. 'That's some advanced magic.' He played with the wooden claws, ignoring the cub's mewls of annoyance. 'How did you guys do it?'

'Not with transfiguration,' Neville said as he beamed at the still nameless cub. 'We've been trying to turn her back, but it's really hard.'

'Why would you turn her back?' Blaise watched as the cub nipped at him, so he responded by mimicking the cub and biting the air just in front of the cub.

'It takes more effort.' Harry ran his hand through his hair, laughing as Hermione continued to gape at the cub, even more shocked since she realised that they transfigured it.

'That's seventh year stuff, and it's dangerous! You're better off going to Professor McGonagall and have her fix it for you!'

'No!' Neville panicked and looked at Harry who looked just as terrified. Adults may not be able to sense the Old Religion, but that didn't mean that they would be completely unaffected by it. If McGonagall tried to transfigure the cub she would certainly run into trouble.

'It's dangerous.' Hermione pushed, starting to look flustered. She couldn't believe that Harry and Neville would so blatantly do something dangerous after McGonagall gave them the lecture at the beginning of the year about not doing that kind of thing on their own.

'Why not just keep her as a cub,' Blaise asked as he stroked the cub that was licking his hand.

'Because Aunt Morgana said that we can't leave things half done. We either turn her back or make her a full cub.'

'We couldn't figure out how to finish the process,' Harry added as he stared at the cub critically, he honestly didn't understand what they were doing wrong. They had practised the chants all night long, made sure they were at their full ability, and had redone the ritual multiple times just to make sure but they failed each time. If anything, her coat just became more glossy.

'Or reverse it,' Neville said as he went red. He remembered when Morgana told them that they had to take the cub to school, it was shortly after she had gone into the yard and had dug up all of the grass in random spots. Clearly she thought it was far too much work, and had told them that the cub would remain unstable until she was fully alive, or back to a coat rack.

'We'll figure it out.' Blaise waved his hand, making Harry and Neville share looks of pure disagreement. There was no way the young Italian would be able to help them reverse a spell done using the Old Magic.

'No, you won't,' Hermione retorted, saying what the other two boys were thinking. Flipping the page of her book, she focused in on it again, making it seem like she had never even said something at all.

'No you won't,' Blaise mouthed, mocking the way she said it before he huffed and looked out the window.

'Well, I have an interesting book to read!' Neville dug out his own book and buried his own head in it, not wanting to pay attention to any fight that might come up.

'What's going on with your mother?' Blaise questioned, the problem of the three-headed dog popping into his head once again.

'She already has the attention of Ms. Bones, and as the head of the MLE, she'll be looking into it before deciding whether or not to come in.' Harry smirked and rested his chin on his palm, looking out of the window again. 'All we need to do is make sure Ms. Bones has enough witnesses.'


	9. Chapter 9

Morgana walked down the halls of the Ministry of Magic serenely, the clacking of her heels sounded against the clean tiled floor below her. Today was going to be the first meeting of the Wizengamot she would sit in on, like the other civilians she would sit in the viewing gallery that was set below the seats held by the members of the Wizengamot. Just the thought of what she was doing made her scoff, the Wizengamot was a joke, it made Morgana feel even less confident in the wizarding world than she was previously. It would be so unbelievably easy to gain control of the Wizengamot. But that was not her motive, her motive today was merely to observe.

With a shake of her head, Morgana entered the large room, not thrown back from it's grandeur like how most new people were. 'Morgana! There you are!'

'Josette!' Morgana's red lips curled into a smile as she approached the beautiful widow. 'It's a pleasure to see you again.'

'And I, you,' Josette purred, her glossed lips pulling up into an identical smile. She was wearing the plum robes of the Wizengamot, and somehow, unlike the other members, she managed to still look beautiful. Her dark brown hair was curled into delicate waves, and was cascading down from her head. Her bangs fell in an even line just above her light brown eyes that were wide and welcoming, but had a comforting glint to them, a glint that was caused from her critical gaze. Most would find it strange that Morgana found comfort in that critical glint, but for she had always taken comfort in the truth. She preffered things to not be hidden, so for Josette to make herself so obvious to Morgana, it was nice.

'Our boys are back at Hogwarts by now,' Morgana fell in step with her as they walked past the rows of filled seats.

'And no doubt doing their job well,' Josette smiled at some of the people they passed, but kept her attention on Morgana. 'Now, as you know you will be unable to sit with me during the trial, but I have a seat in the viewing gallery reserved for you. It's below mine.'

'Thank you,' Morgana ignored the feeling of annoyance that erupted in her system. Being below someone was a place she never wanted to be. 'Where is the Potter seat?'

'It is just over there,' Josette pointed to a seat that was at in the middle of the room. Sitting within it was a young middle aged woman, she had stringy blonde hair that was pulled into a bun, and looked far too comfortable in the seat for Morgana's tastes.

'Emmeline Vance,' Morgana hissed, she recognised the woman from her research.

'Yes, don't worry about her,' Josette rested her hand on Morgana's shoulder. 'We'll push her out of the Wizengamot. Just like the Vance's were pushed out centuries ago.' Her eyes flickered to the other side of the room before she looked back at Morgana. 'It appears this session is starting, take a seat and make notes. My observations will only go so far,' Josette flashed Morgana a smile then walked up the steps towards the section that her seats were. Morgana smirked at her back before claiming the seat Josette left for her, she couldn't wait to have her seat. She certainly deserved it after all of the nonsense she was put through over the past couple of years.

* * *

'We need a bigger bang,' Blaise tapped his fingers against the table. 'We don't have enough witnesses yet, and mother sent me a letter. Madam Bones wants to move in, she doesn't want to leave the dog in the castle any longer than necessary.'

'We could always ask the twins,' Hermione spoke up, looking up from her parchment. 'They are good at spreading information.'

'Why haven't they gone into the room yet?' Harry frowned, it made absolutely no sense. They were renowned troublemakers, from what he heard of them, they wouldn't have been able to get to that room soon enough.

'They have,' Neville leaned back in his seat looking more relaxed than he had the previous half of the year. 'I heard them bragging about it, I managed to convince them to tell me their story. Turns out the dog falls asleep when it hears music, apparently they're trying to work with that theory.'

'For a prank?' Hermione looked stuck between interest and mortification, as always. She seemed indefinitely stuck between knowledge, and how it was carried out.

'No, for a weapon,' Harry retorted dryly. Hermione's nose flared and she glared at him, spurning him to grin cheekily at her.

'So, we just need to get their help, right?' Blaise continued tapping his fingers, 'that'll be easy.'

'We don't need their help,' Neville frowned and crossed his arms. 'We're doing well on our own. Besides, how much help do we get before Aunt Morgana thinks we're incompetent?'

' _No_ ,' Blaise whined, 'don't tell me you're getting all, worship Morgana, too? Harry's bad enough.'

'I don't worship her!' Neville flushed and looked away from Blaise. It was true, Morgana was in no way worshipped by Neville, but that didn't mean that the pre-teen didn't have immense respect (and mild fear) for her. But with how Harry was always pining to be like her and Blaise was always teasing him for it, well, why not add Neville to his teasing?

'Neither do I, she's my mother, I have the right to want to impress her,' Harry went pink and ran his fingers through his already well-ruffled hair.

'You would be the same if you met her,' Neville mumbled, his lips jutting out in a childish pout.

'I met her, and _I'm_ not overly dependent on her opinion,' Hermione crossed her arms, and lifted her chin with pride.

'That's just because you didn't see her library,' Neville snorted, an uncharacteristic smirk flashed across his face as Hermione instantly dropped her contemptuous posture as she leaned towards him eagerly. It was the same run Harry did before the holidays, if anything that just meant that Hermione was even more curious about the size of, and what was held within Morgana's library.

'What library?' She said, a touch of impatience colouring her words. If only they would tell her instead of teasing her, then she would feel better. But to her annoyance, they seemed incapable of just saying what they meant.

'Don't worry about it, she's not worthy of your opinion after all, so who cares about her library,' Neville shrugged, smiling as Blaise shot him a proud grin and a thumbs up. Blaise felt like a pleased father who had just watched his son fly on his first broom. There was nothing like watching the plan to bring Neville out of his shell work. Not that he and Harry had done much. Really all they did was give Neville a place where he could feel comfortable, then teased Hermione. After awhile he had learnt to do some of the same things as them (he also had a natural snarky side he never showed before).

'I don't think it matters, when mother deems it is the right time, Madam Bones will move in.' Harry ignored Neville and Hermione (really he didn't even notice their tiff, he was absorbed in his thoughts) and continued talking about their plan.

'Why would your mother control when Madam Bones moves in?' Blaise's eyebrows lifted, readily continuing with their planning. 'I heard Bones moves on her time. She's one of the most effective heads of the Magical Law Enforcement section that the Ministry of Magic has seen in awhile. She didn't get that way by following someone else's timetable. Plus, during the last meeting of the Wizengamot my mother presented a question of the schools safety. So, Bones will be officially doing the investigation now.' The kids didn't know _how_ Madame Bones had gotten such a thing to happen when there was next to no evidence of danger at the school, but well, the adults must have done something. If Harry guessed, he would say it was staged as a minor routine safety check or something along those lines.

'But we still don't know if we have enough witnesses,' Hermione huffed and looked down at the parchment that was covered with the people she thought could testify about the dog. They were organised by year, house, and some other factor that Harry wasn't going to bother to try and figure out. He knew he could trust her.

'Pass it over,' Harry held out his hand and readily took the list scanning through it. Every few second he would scrap a name with his quill, and sometimes he would underline them. He ignored Hermione's gasp and squeaks of indignation. 'What do you think?' He gave Blaise the list, the young Italian scanned through it quickly before breathing out in relief.

'We're good, I can't think of anybody else that would help us. Should we be slipping this to Susan? Madam Bones is her Aunt after all, she would ensure she got it.'

'Who's to say she would actually give it to her, or even if this would help?' Harry frowned and tapped his lips with the tip of his quill's feather. 'No, I don't think we should. Madam Bones should be able to figure it out on her own. We just have to make sure that Dumbledore does not know that we helped. If we let this slip, then he'll know that students helped. Plus, it might make him aware that something is going on. If that happens he might cover everything up.'

'Well, this is all interesting, but if really is going so smoothly then shouldn't we finish our herbology essays?' Neville clicked his tongue, and looked at his essay. He wished he could add some things from his new book, but that would be stupid. Who know what the teachers would do if he added quotes from a book that was supposedly destroyed, and was, on top of that, banned.

'Yes, we should,' Hermione beamed, looking extremely happy that somebody was eager to do their work. Though really, she didn't have much trouble with the boys. Harry was willing to do whatever he had to, Neville needed minor prodding, and Blaise just needed incentive. She wondered what it would be like to be friends with people who didn't, nor wanted to, do their work. She imagined it would be hell.

* * *

It took a month, a whole month for the interesting things to happen. Of course, some would deem getting a cloak of invisibility after their return from Christmas as interesting, but there were more important things on Harry's mind. Like the whole plan to get the school free of a three headed dog. Now, beginning of February, he was pleased to read the letter he had just gotten from his mother. 'What is it?' Blaise looked up from his food, politely resisting the urge to look over his friends shoulder (for once).

Harry's lips curled into the smallest of smiles as he folded his letter up neatly, placing it into his bag. 'My mother is achieving everything she wanted,' he laughed happily, unaware of the looks his fellow Slytherins were sharing. His laugh was exactly like his mother's so, by extension, it was terrifyingly villainous. Though she was not evil anymore, that didn't matter. Because despite her nature changing, things like habits never would. Morgana would always have the cold cynical laugh of a villain who just had their hope and trust stripped from them. And children would always mimic their parents.

'What is your mother wanting to achieve?' Daphne used her toast to wipe her plate free of any remaining food then ate it, looking expectantly at their representative. She was weary to hear the answer, especially after Harry's _interesting_ laugh.

'A lot of things,' Blaise answered for Harry, 'I hardly think it's your business.' Daphne shrugged noncommittally, reacting the exact opposite to Pansy who gasped in shock.

'Not our business! He's the representative! We deserve to know what he's up to!' She snarled, her constantly pouty lips pulled into an even deeper pout.

Harry's eyebrow twitched as he looked up from his plate at Pansy. The girl had a nasty habit of either acting like he wasn't there, or sucking up to him like every other fake Slytherin that was in the house. Honestly, sometimes he wondered exactly how the standards for his house dropped so much. Throughout the year he noticed that the people that were in his house were pure-blooded, and had some ties to dark wizards, or were considered dark in their own ways. There was not one muggleborn in the house. Not to mention most barely embodied what made the Slytherin house _great_.

He was starting to wonder if that was because the hat discriminated, or if it was because muggleborns were always bullied, and told the bad people were in Slytherin, so begged the hat not to put them there. For all he knew the headmaster could have told the hat not to put muggleborns into the house for their safety. It appeared to be the same with the Gryffindor house, the ones who were light, or had a severe taste for justice seemed to go to that house, not because that was what Gryffindor stood by, but because that was what students were told the house would create in them. Since when did brave mean justice anyways?

Shaking his head, Harry rid his thoughts of all possible corruption that was in the school. It was pointless to focus on it at that moment, there was already enough on his plate. He didn't need to add more which would only serve to make him more anxious than he was. Not that he _was_ anxious, he was more excited. With that thought he noticed an owl fly to Dumbledore and give him a letter. It wasn't unusual for the headmaster to get a letter, but Harry thought he had a fairly good clue of what was in it.

'You don't deserve to know anything Parkinson, honestly, if you can't use your cunning to figure out then you don't deserve to know.' Daphne rolled her eyes and pushed her empty plate away from it. Within seconds it disappeared from the table.

'Say sorry!' Millicent hissed as her face flooded with red. As always the classic game of follow the leader commenced and one of Pansy's lackeys was standing up for the daft pre-teen.

'She shouldn't have to.' Harry fixed his critical eyes on the young Bulstrode girl. 'Daphne is correct, there were many ways for her to figure out, if she can't use one, then she doesn't deserve to know.' Millicent glared at him, looking like she wanted to say something else. However, she wisely held her tongue. He was, after all, the representative. She couldn't just speak against him, she either had to undermine him, or prove she had the right to be at his side. If she was at his side then she had the right to argue for her opinion, but so far, he hadn't chosen a female to join him. He only had the male position filled, there was no surprise that Blaise was his male choice.

'You should be more careful,' Harry said. He pierced the strawberry that was on his plate with his fork as he looked at Pansy. 'Or I'll officially replace you.' With a charming smile he lifted the fruit to his mouth, bit it off of the fork, then got up and left the table. Blaise winked at Pansy, mouthing, better luck next time, before following after his friend. Yes, Blaise particularly enjoyed meals at the Slytherin table, they were always fascinating enough to keep his attention.

Blaise and Harry were only moments from leaving when a squad of aurors came into the great hall. Harry had to admit that the colour the headmaster's face was turning was amusing enough to last him the whole day, it turned out that Madam Bones was making a move sooner than was thought.

'Due to official business conducted by the MLE, we are asking all students to remain in the Great Hall until told otherwise.' An auror announced, his thin lips were settled in such a neutral fashion it was hard to tell what he thought about his announcement. Yet, by the way his eyes seemed to bunch at the bottom; Harry could tell the middle-aged man was suppressing a particularly venomous glare. It turns out that Madame Bones had indeed petitioned to do a routine safety check, to ensure that the school was up to code. Dumbledore had agreed, expecting to, well, Harry had no idea what the Headmaster had planned. All he could tell was that the MLE had decided to make a move without telling him in advance, and so had the ability to search the school without giving the headmaster a chance to enact whatever plan he may, or may not, have created.

Harry ran a hand through his hair as his chest seemed to drain of all previous tension, only to be replaced by the unmistakable feeling of triumph. 'I guess we need to get back to a table,' stuffing his fingers in his pockets, he walked towards the Ravenclaw table with an unmistakably arrogant posture. Blaise merely smirked in response, slinging his arm around his friends shoulder as they ignored the glares some of the Gryffindor's, namely Ron, were sending their way.

Dumbledore stood up and walked to the auror, clearly meaning to talk privately with the man, hoping to get the MLE out of Hogwarts, and his plans. 'He's on the move,' Blaise whispered into Harry's ear, his hot breath grazing Harry's ear. His younger friend's response was only a small smile as he claimed the seat beside Hermione, and Blaise beside him.

'So, everything's turning out as you expected,' Harry said as greeting to Hermione.

'Yeah,' Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, looking down at her plate, a pink tint starting to dust her cheeks. Pride, it was an amazing thing in Harry's mind. It prevented growth, it spurned anger, and evoked courage, it was dangerous to say the least. Yet, despite it's ability to cloud the mind, it also had the ability to encourage the mind to believe in it's abilities, and work better than it had previously. It was also something that he could tell Hermione had lots of, yet, she still took compliments with surprised smiles, and red cheeks.

Harry looked at Blaise who nodded, catching the silent command to help him desensitize Hermione to the idea of planning and breaking the rules. 'I can't believe it worked.' Blaise laughed and smiled at her. 'You did an amazing job. Clearly we reached who we needed, and impressed the important people.' Step one, appealing to the hubris; remind her of what an excellent job she did. He leaned towards her, watching as she nodded in agreement. 'With these kinds of skills, you could be a lawyer.' Step two; relate it to a real world application that can be taken positively. 'You could even be a rights spokesman!' He evaluated, adding an absolutely positive job, knowing full well that lawyers are either taken with bitter memories of corruption, or freedom fighters. Since he had no clue which Hermione thought of, he added in the other job to ensure she was thinking of the positive connotation of lawyers.

'Really? This is what is needed?' She questioned as she stared at them dubiously, her eyes narrowing in such a way that made Harry and Blaise nervous. It felt as if she was able to tell exactly what they were doing, and what means they were using to achieve it.

'Of course!' Harry took over the job of positive reinforcement. 'We were investigative, we collected essential evidence. As well as ensured that we had a solid case, not only that but we differed everything we found to the professionals, the people who could handle it properly.' He noticed how she mulled over his words, considering what he was saying with the same critical process as she did most everything else. Most being the key thing, she seemed to go to autopilot when it came to respecting higher ranking figures.

'Shouldn't we have told the teachers?' Hermione rubbed the bottom joint of her thumb with her other thumb as she questioned him.

'We could have,' Blaise said in agreement, 'but since the teachers themselves set it up that wouldn't have been wise. Besides, the MLE would never have taken the job if it had no basis. Sometimes you need to go to the government first instead of teachers.'

'True.' Hermione nodded slowly before a small smile spread across her face. 'We did do good, didn't we?'

'That we did!' Harry beamed and rubbed her shoulder blade as he would any other of the guys, not realizing that it was unusual to treat girls physically the same as he would treat boys. He glanced over at Blaise who smirked at him, celebrating the first successful move to desensitize Hermione of her overly good morals, before the Italian smiled at Hermione.

'How long should it be until they are done?' Blaise looked behind him where the Headmaster was talking to the auror with a smile and overly twinkling eyes.

'Who knows,' Hermione spoke up, sounding much more confident than she was previously. 'It depends on if there is anything else to take care along with the dog.'

'What else would there be? A dragon?' Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, instantly Hermione laughed, finding the idea equally as ludicrous.

'This means we'll be missing class.' Neville dropped down across from the trio, sighing as he did.

'Neville!' Instantly Blaise's face lit up, happy to see his Gryffindor friend sitting at another table by his own prerogative.

'Blaise!' Neville mimicked him before huffing, and grimacing. Harry's eyebrows shot up as he took in his friends unusually snarky demeanor.

'What's wrong?' Hermione frowned at him, looking thrown off by his behaviour.

'Sorry.' Neville sighed and rubbed his eyes, 'Ron's been hounding me all day. Keeps telling me to reverse whatever Harry did to him. What _did_ you do to him?' His eyebrows rose as he looked at Harry.

'I'm not sure,' Harry's eyes lifted into crescent shapes (what would become a killer eye-smile in the future) as he ran his hand through his hair, looking embarrassed. 'I just used the first thing that came to mind. 'I forgot I hadn't reversed it yet.'

'He's spent a whole two months as a complete klutz, everything that could go wrong physically, has.' Blaise laughed, looking completely unbothered that Ron's condition might be permanent.

' _You_ did that!' Hermione exclaimed, her eyes started watering and she sniffed, suddenly looking like she was going to cry. Needless to say Hermione's emotional state changed so quickly that the trio were left awkward and confused. It seemed unnatural to them how fast she went from fine, to holding back tears.

'U-um.' Harry's eyes widened as he looked at Blaise and Neville helplessly. Truth was always the best policy, so, expecting her to rant at him about breaking the rules and being mean he spoke honestly. 'Yes, he had done so much to you, after the troll I was fed up with him. You deserve better than that, so I acted out, and it was done incorrectly. I'm sorry I'll try to do better next time-' he went silent out of shock when she suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

'Thank you,' her fingers pressed into his back with a gentle hold, he could feel her gulping to try and stay her tears. 'Don't think I'm okay with you potentially hurting him, but, thank you.'

'You're welcome,' Harry smiled and hugged her back, running his fingers through her tangled bush of hair, once again acting out the things his mother did for him. 'We're here for you Hermione, we're like your big brothers.' He blatantly ignore the fact that only Blaise was older than her. 'We'll protect you from people like that.' He was mentally crossing his fingers, hoping that by laying it on thick (even though he was being honest) she would forget to lecture him.

'Absolutely!' Neville agreed with a firm nod of his head, smiling at Hermione when she let go of Harry, flushed and embarrassed that she had almost cried when all of Hogwarts was in the great hall.

'We can easily demolish idiots like Ron for you.' Blaise continued looking completely unashamed of how violent his comment could be taken. Harry glanced at Blaise for a moment, wondering if he should be worried with how unashamed Blaise was when he called people particularly rude names, or when he said overtly violent things.

'Thank you.' Hermione smiled at them, avoiding looking at the other members of her table. Her eyes instead went to the front of the room, where the teachers were. 'Where did Quirrell go?'

'Maybe he got asked to help or something.' Blaise looked at the staff table, then scanned the room. His eyebrows furrowed as he came to the realisation of the other three.

'The rest of the teachers are here still.' Harry voiced their thoughts before his fingers drifted up to his scar. He could almost see the facts whirling in his mind, his scar never hurt him, but suddenly after Halloween it hurt in the middle of class when he made eye contact with Quirrell. At Halloween a troll was running through the halls, Quirrell warned the school. Except, the troll needed _help_ to get into the school, and he was the only teacher not in the great hall so he must have let it in. Now, Quirrell was the only one gone and the aurors were investigating the dog, and the dog was hiding something. All facts, however dissimilar looking were connected he knew it, and one thing stood out. Whatever Quirrell intentions were, they were not good.

'Quirrell's after whatever the dog is hiding, but the aurors are going to find it first.' Harry spoke out his thoughts, his green eyes were still unfocused, and dark, showing he was deep in thought still. 'I don't know what he could be after, but the Headmaster knows what it is.'

'You think it's connected to your scar hurting?'

'No, but I know Quirrell is related to it.' Harry sighed and closed his eyes as his thoughts went back to when he had talked to his mother about Quirrell.

' _Harry, what I'm about to tell you is serious. You need to promise to stay calm, and listen to me until I'm done.' Morgana whispered to him, keeping her voice down so that they would not wake up Neville._

' _Of course.' Harry nodded his head and ran his hand through his hair, trying to ease the nervousness that was filling him because of her serious tone._

' _You know that Voldemort came to your house on Halloween and killed your parents. Somehow you survived, but not without gaining that scar.' Morgana's fingers reached out towards his forehead, warming it as she gently traced the lightening bolt._

' _The scar's what hurt with Quirrell,' he spoke up and looked at his mother. 'What does that mean?'_

' _Your scar is a horcrux. It should only react to Voldemort's presence.' Once again Harry heard that word, he really had to look it up or something because he still had no clue what it meant. His mother hadn't told him, instead she said she was researching it and would tell him as much as she could when she felt it was the right time. But by telling him what it was, he knew that meant that she was giving him the choice to listen to her, or look it up himself. She may have been keeping a secret, but she also let him have free will on the matter. All Morgana had told him was that it was somehow connected to Voldemort._

' _But it didn't react to Quirrell before Halloween.'_

' _Because Voldemort wasn't possessing him yet, that's the only explanation, possession.' Morgana sighed and rubbed her eyes. She looked tired, Harry knew it was because she stayed up planning everything. She wanted to be prepared, but she was doing it at the expense of her sleep. 'You said the dog was hiding something, Voldemort must be after it. It can't be a coincidence that a troll got into the school, then one of your teachers suddenly showed signs of possession. Your teacher failed, he is most likely being controlled because of that. You must be careful around him promise me of that, and do_ not _move against him. The MLE will take care of that.'_

' _Alright, I won't,' Harry smiled weakly at his mother, ignoring the way his lips wobbled, trying to fall into a frown. This really was too much. How many eleven year olds got told that their teacher was being possessed by a villain that would stop at nothing to kill them._

'What do we do?' Neville frowned, his eyes scanning the room constantly, like what he seemed to do when he was nervous.

'We do nothing,' Harry shook his head reassuring himself that MLE could take care of everything. Though if he were to honest, he didn't trust the MLE, rather, he trusted his mother's opinion. He had no reason to trust in the law enforcement, especially not after the stories his mother told him about Uther's so called justice. 'The MLE will take care of it.'

'Alright.' Hermione nodded and relaxed, feeling at ease because, for once, they would be trusting the higher authority. Though if she had to be honest, a part of her was crying out indignantly at being left out of an interesting adventure.

* * *

It had taken half the day, but the MLE had, indeed, taken care of it. They made no mention of what they were doing, they never said what happened to Quirrell. The only thing said was in Dumbledore's forlorn announcement at the end of the day that the teacher had been arrested. The students had been in an uproar, everyone was trying to figure out what their cowardly, stuttering teacher had done. Most students hadn't even listened as the Headmaster announced that the MLE was giving them a substitute teacher for the rest of the year. Other than that, nothing was revealed about what the MLE found, or what actions they were going to take.

That meant Harry and his friends had their information came from Morgana, Blaises mother, and, surprisingly, Neville's grandmother. It appeared that she was a friend of Madam Bones, so she had been filled in on the plan. The four were surprised to hear that instead of Blaise's mother suggesting Morgana take the Potter seat, it was Mrs. Longbottom who was a member of the light rather than grey like Mrs. Zabini. So, Harry was hardly surprised that when the news broke out, he was called back to the Headmaster's office. Once again his nose was stuffed with the scents of lemon candies, dust, and old paper. His head was throbbing from the over stimulation caused from the different devices that whirred, spun, and moved rather like an elevator, going up, and down.

'I want to congratulate your mother,' Dumbledore spoke slowly, his voice was smooth, and was weighed down with hidden emotions. Harry's lidded eyes focused on the man in front of him, as he mentally wondered why the man couldn't just send his mother a letter if the meeting was for mere congratulations. 'Was she not happy with Emmeline Vance?'

'I don't think she has anything about Ms. Vance, it was more that because she adopted me she automatically should be taking the Potter seat.' Harry stared into the light blue eyes of the Headmaster, suddenly hit with the realisation that the shade was extremely similar to the colour of the blue poison dart frog. No doubt the man was just as dangerous, despite being seen as a wise elderly man to the rest of the wizarding world. The man certainly was colourful enough to be considered dangerous in the animal world. Harry's eyes flicked to the obnoxiously yellow, green, and purple robes the Headmaster was wearing.

'Of course.' Dumbledore smiled at Harry. In response the eleven year old lifted his eyes until they met the Headmaster's once again. Just as Harry met his gaze, the Headmaster started mentally probing at the boys mind, happy that the boy was finally looking him in his eyes.

'Mr. Dumbledore,' Harry started off sounding extremely innocent, like the other eleven year olds in his year. 'What would be the punishment for using legilimency?'

Dumbledore smiled, looking so undeterred that Harry might have thought that the man hadn't just used that skill on him. However, he had been taught throughout his entire life to block his mind using occlumency, even if he didn't know his mother was teaching him. So, he had been able to tell the elderly man had tried to get into his head.

'There is a fine that comes with it, nothing like prison, though. Since the skill is extremely hard to master, there isn't a need for heavy regulation.'

'Interesting, considered the truth serum is illegal if the Ministry of Magic has not authorized it.' Harry nodded in agreement to his own words. 'If there is nothing else, I should probably go? I have a study session with my friends, and would hate to miss it. We need to prepare for potions.'

'Of course, Harry m'boy,' Dumbledore smiled at Harry and nodded to him, though his smiled look strained and controlled.

'Good bye, Headmaster.' With an inclination of his head, Harry nodded to Dumbledore before leaving the room, and rushing to the library. The potions comment wasn't true, not at all, rather the four wanted to talk about what happened with the dog. Especially since the Daily Prophet barely covered it. It seemed like forever walking down the third floor corridor to the library. It was interesting, he supposed, that the Headmaster's office entrance, the library, and what was the forbidden room, were all on the same floor. If he were fool enough to put a three headed dog into a school, which he wasn't, he would not have put it on the same floor as the library. Though he supposed it being close to the Headmaster's office was a good thing.

With a shake of his head Harry walked into the library, walking quickly to the back of the room where Hermione, Blaise, and Neville were already sitting and talking amongst themselves. 'Harry!' Hermione smiled at him and waved him over, the book he had given her was lying open on the table. He could tell that she had already read it through because her bookmark was at the beginning, and he knew she was not one for leaving a book like that unread. Once she got past the possibility of being arrested or expelled for reading it, she was eager to find the knowledge it held.

'Hello.' Smiling back at her, he claimed the seat beside Neville who was to the left of Hermione, and as usual Hermione was at the head of the table, and Blaise was to her right. 'So, did you guys hear Madam Bones has Quirrell imprisoned in the Department of Mysteries? Apparently he's integral to finding out what happened to Voldemort.'

'That's what my grandmother was saying,' Neville said, nodding in agreement.

'Is it true there was a whole maze down there?' Blaise frowned and played with his quill that was, for once, actually his.

'No.' Hermione shook her head, causing her curls to shake with her. 'It was more like a set of tests. The teachers actually set up separate tests, one by each teacher. The only way to get the stone was by defeating them.' Of course Hermione was the one who read in depth about what had occurred, and Neville had merely skimmed the letter sent to him.

'That's dangerous!' Neville's eyebrows furrowed and he slouched in his seat, frowning at the table. 'What if a student got stuck? Or they decided to do it for fun? They could have died!'

'That is precisely why we contacted the MLE and got it taken care of professionally.' Harry nodded in affirmation to his own words.

'That and getting your mother a seat.' Blaise sighed and started running his fingers down the shaft of the quill, ruffling the feathers. 'My mother thinks she's going to get sworn in the next meeting. Apparently your mother has made a lot of friends since she entered the Wizarding World. Most of the Wizengamot knows of, or is acquainted with her.'

'What does Ms. Vance think of losing the Potter seat?' Hermione leaned back in her seat, adjusting her tie.

'No idea.' Harry shook his head, the very idea of finding out set a noticeable state of laziness upon him. His eyes became lidded, his shoulders loosened, and his head seemed to tilt by the slightest amount, as if he went to shake it but found himself without anymore energy to finish.

'I wonder what _Dumbledore_ thinks, Vance is one of his, you know?' Blaise's eyebrows furrowed in thought, he was an obvious person that disliked Dumbledore. As had been made clear in previous conversation, plus, it could be said that Slytherins tended to not like the headmaster. It was practically a qualification for the house.

'What do you mean?' Hermione frowned and rubbed her temple, as if trying to use telepathy to get the answers.

'There are rumours of a secret organisation that was formed by Dumbledore, it was called the Order of the Phoenix. It was created during the last war against Voldemort, my mother had a list of suspected members, Vance was one of them. She was a Gryffindor, and Dumbledore like her, he helped her get a job in the ministry. He didn't do that for everyone, so it was obvious that he trusted her.' Blaise trailed off, as if trying to think up more facts. but it was fairly obvious to Harry that Blaise didn't need to think anymore, he was instead watching to see if anybody had any comments to make. Or, if they even wanted to go deeper into the topic.

'She was an auror wasn't she?' Neville frowned, before leaning closer to the table, making sure that nobody was around to hear. 'She is in the Order of the Phoenix, I saw a picture one day, she was in it. Along with our parents,' he looked over at Harry who had gotten a thoughtful glaze in his green eyes, nodding to show he heard what Neville said. 'A lot of the members were aurors.'

'You think Dumbledore planted her?' Hermione's voice was laced with disgust as she spoke. 'I think you guys are reading too far into it. Yes, she knows Dumbledore, yes she was in the Order of the Phoenix, but so were your guy's parents! That means she probably shares your families views, and can be trusted to not use your seat for evil. I hardly think Dumbledore placed her for manipulation of the court. He's the Chief warlock, he has enough power in the Wizengamot that he doesn't need to use her as some _pawn_.'

'Maybe we are.' Blaise nodded and shrugged. 'But we can never be too careful, the world isn't in black and white, there's more depth to it than that.'

'Whether someone is good or not really doesn't matter.' Harry agreed with Blaise instantly. 'Everyone plans, manipulates, and has their own game to play. It's the way people are, we are inherently evil, humans, wizards or muggle, it doesn't matter, we are all prone to doing wrong. Nobody teaches a child to lie, to be a glutton - in fact, the so called seven deadly sins aren't taught to a child. It's instinctual. With all of this in everyone, you can't hold Dumbledore in such a holy light, because good or not, he has, and will, commit evil.'

'One must be cunning and wicked in this world,' Hermione whispered to herself, as if giving a supporting point to what Harry was saying.

'Pardon?' Blaise frowned and shared confused looked with Neville and Harry. It was clear she had quoted something, but they were at a loss as to what she had quoted.

'War and Peace,' Hermione smiled softly, it was so delicate that Harry felt as if the rustling of pages by a student behind her might make it fall. 'I'll think about it.' She picked up her book and walked away silently, looking far less energetic than she had previously. But, it felt serene to Harry, it was as if without something to puzzle out, Hermione wasn't at rest. So, she seemed at peace to have something new to think about.

'I'm starting to think our plan might be a bad idea,' Blaise said mostly to himself.

'It's never bad to open the eyes of the ignorant,' Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, not fully believing that he was saying. He knew she was at a disadvantage by being so innocent, he wanted to help prevent her from being used, but at the same time he felt as if he were destroying her. Wasn't that why so many cultures seemed to worship children? Because they admired their purity? Their vivacity?

Neville remained silent, not saying anything. In part he was frustrated that Blaise, and Harry were so cynical, but he also knew it was true. There was evil in the world, and people were prone to it, especially people like Bellatrix. His face flushed as he thought about the woman that had cursed his parents to insanity, his hands clenched underneath the tabletop, gripping onto his expensive slacks. If people were meant to be inherently evil, then he would rise above them. He would work to be good, he would work to be the most pure person he could. Then he could raise above the mundane, the bland people that fell to their human nature, that folded to evil. Then, maybe, he could save his parents and make them proud.

* * *

Albus entered the Wizengamot with a fake smile and kind words to everyone who welcomed him. He folded his hands on his lap after he sat on his seat that was at the head of the hall. 'Today,' his voice boomed throughout the room, louder due to the sonorous charm. 'We are here due to the Longbottom house petitioning for a new chair holder for the Potter seat. Before we start our proceedings, is there anyone who who support the Lady Longbottom's request?'

Josette stood up instantly. 'The Zabini house will support the Longbottom house's decision.' Sitting down her head tilted to the side as she looked at the other grey house.

'The Greengrass house also supports the Longbottom house's choice to initiate a new holder of the Potter seat.' Ainsley Greengrass nodded his head to Mrs. Longbottom before taking his seat once again.

'With two supporting seats, this matter will be officially brought before the Wizengamot.' Albus smiled as he scanned the hall, there was absolutely no way that the majority would vote for a stranger, especially one that appeared to be a muggle, into the Wizengamot. But the headmaster of Hogwarts was quite oblivious to the fact that Morgana was no stranger to the magic folk within the Wizengamot. 'Will Morgana Pendragon please take to the front.' He had never seen Harry's surrogate mother before, and this was the worst situation to meet her for the first time.

He watched as a woman stood up in the bystander seats, she walked up to the front with a steady arrogant gait that would rival even the royalty he had met in his lifetime. She smiled at Albus coldly, he was instantly reminded of Gellert. She had the same smug glint in her blue eyes that his old lover did. She seemed to think that she had already won her seat. Albus resisted the urge to shake his head. He had seen far more than she had, she could never dream to see the things he had, or do the things he was called to. She was far too arrogant for a woman of her age, she barely looked like she had hit her mid-thirties. 'Is there anything one of the supporters wishes to say before I allow Ms. Pendragon to say her part?'

He took the moments in between to observe the woman. She was dressed in a dark purple pinup dress that seemed to be shaped much like one's he saw throughout the second world war. She had a black coat on that ended just at her hips, making good use of her figure, and appeared to be extremely expensive. She had a thin silver belt at her waistline as well. Her dark brown hair was braided loosely, her bangs were falling into her face emphasizing her sharp jawline. Her nails were a dark purple, and were perfectly manicured. She was without a single flaw, nothing was wrinkled, dirty, or even un-aesthetically pleasing. He could even smell a faint scent of lavender perfume that was neither too strong, nor fake smelling.

With a shake of his head he went back to attention to see Madame Bones stand up and tapped her throat, activating the sonorus charm. 'It is well known among the parents of the children at Hogwarts, that recently my division within the Ministry of Magic, Magical Law Enforcement, was called to dispose of a potentially dangerous creature that lurked within the halls.' Madame Bones went silent as she waited for murmurs of agreement to fade amongst the council. 'I wish to draw attention to the fact that it was Ms. Pendragon that made us aware of the dangers within the school. With her help, along with the Headmasters, who is also, as everyone knows, our Chief Warlock, we were able to dispose of all of the dangers without harming our children that were at school.'

She lifted her wand absently, preparing to cancel the charm. 'I wish all prospective voters to take to mind what Ms. Pendragon has done for our heirs, and the future generation of Wizards that will grace these halls within this century. She did this despite not having any previous connection to us, and our government.' Amelia sat down shortly after tapping her throat, cancelling the charm.

'Hold on.' Edlin Brown stood up and frowned at Morgana. Edlin was one of the few people that barely knew Morgana, and so was one of the few within the council who felt unease with inviting a woman in that may not have any cultural connections to their world. 'You have no connection to our government? Are you magical? Should there be a muggle holding a seat within our court that weighs upon _magical_ issues?' Following his comment some of the darker wizards, including the Malfoy, Nott, and Goyle house nodded in agreement.

'Ms. Pendragon?' Dumbledore activated the sonorous charm for her so that she could answer. When it came to those being questioned by the court, whether it was for position or something more serious such as a trial, it was common for the Chief Warlock to enact such spells. It was because of this that Morgana was able to go through with this council to determine whether she would join the Wizengamot. Nobody would be suspicious if she didn't use any spells.

'Mr. Brown,' Morgana clasped her fingers behind her back as she focused on him. 'I appreciate your worry for the state of your court. If I were also in your position I would question the involvement of someone who is ignorant to the magical culture. However, I am neither ignorant, nor am I a muggle. My father was, indeed, a muggle. My mother was a witch and my sister, who was also a witch, made it her job to ensure I knew everything about my mother's world. I am not oblivious to the differences between cultures, instead, I could be a valuable asset that could help clear confusions between sides.' She had propagated this could-be truth (after all, she still had no idea who her mother really was, she may have been a witch) the whole four years she had been making connections within the Wizarding world. This meant that it was a widely accepted truth that she was a half-blood with strong respect for the magical culture held within the magical part of Britain.

Morgana looked at the different people sitting in the Wizengamot, analysing the different house leaders that were there. 'Though I am not aiming to be an _asset_ , I am a mother who has a child in Hogwarts. I have officially adopted my son in both the muggle, and the wizarding world, and I match his views the most. I am the most logical choice for the holder of the Potter seat. Unlike Ms. Vance who has never met Harry in all my years of raising him, neither has she seen fit to communicate with me after I became the representative of the Potter house. Are there any other questions?' Morgana's tone was strong and left no room for doubting. She had the complete aura of a capable seat holder, and seemed far more worthy of it than Emmeline. Though most of that was because she had purposefully cultivated those for four years. She was, after all, patient and willing to wait if it meant it would help her in the future.

When nobody else spoke up Albus cleared his throat to call the attention to the matter at hand. 'We are to begin our voting now, all those in favour of Ms. Pendragon being the representative of the Potter seat?' Morgana raised her chin and her eyebrow quirked by the smallest amount, it was a subtle challenge, one that dared all those watching to vote against her. A smirk curled at her red lips as the vast majority raised their shining wands, voting for her to take the Potter seat. A few only raised their wands after people she knew and had spoken to whispered information to them. Though it was obvious that Edlin was one of the ones that refused to raise his wand. 'By the majority.' Morgana could hear the faint warbling tone of disbelief in the old man's voice as he announced what she knew that outcome would be. 'Ms. Pendragon will be taking the Potter seat.' The feeling of approval she got from Lily in that moment gave her a sense of elation, and made her smirk turn into a soft smile.

'Ms. Pendragon,' Albus removed the sonorus charm and took out the paper that he never imagined he would be using, and handed it to her. She took it from him, using the moment to smile at him impressing on him the feeling of inferiority because he lost the game that they knew they were playing from the moment their eyes met.

'Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore,' her voice was low, and rang with a teasing tone. She neglected to call him by any of his titles, except the one given to him by birth. Her eyes scanned the oath that was upon the paper, then the blood quill he had. It was an old tactic, verbal oath, followed by a blood seal to ensure it would be followed through. It was one that was used before she was even born. Though the pact itself had holes in it. She felt the tickling of magic as he activated the sonorus charm. 'I swear upon my magic, and the Religion of Old, that I will act with honesty, and honour in all my acts within the Wizengamot. I will be true to my beliefs, and will do what is best in the situations presented to the council.' Upon finishing her oath, she signed her name with the quill, not noticing the jolt of pain that was caused by it. It was horrific to her that they swore upon the Old Religion, they swore upon the very thing that gave them their magic, yet most believed it to be nothing more than a fairy tale. It was ignorance on their part.

Albus took the signed paper from her and lifted it, it glowed gold, signaling the acceptance of her position. Clearing his throat the charm was activated once again, 'With the acceptant of Ms. Pendragon as the representative of the Potter house, this council is dismissed.' Morgana put the quill down on the table in front of him.

'Thank you, I never would have gotten the seat without you,' she said with a smile before turning and walking away, her footsteps sounded with the rhythmic clacking of her heels. Albus watched her walk away with a small frown, he questioned whether she meant the trials for the stone he had placed in the school, or even if she meant by leaving Harry with the Dursley's. 'Josette!' He heard her call out to the equally young widow. Something wasn't right about that woman, and he suspected she was the reason that Harry channelled the same characteristics as Tom.

* * *

'Okay.' Neville crouched behind the wall, and stared after Ron who was stumbling his way down the hall. 'Are you ready?'

'Not really.' Harry poked his head out, right behind Neville.

'You said the curse was calling upon something, right?'

'I think, one of the subunits, the words, is usually used in summons. But it might not be.' Harry scowled and ruffled his shaggy black hair. Since the beginning of the year it had started growing out, and was always getting into his eyes.

'So, do the anti-summons I set up.' Neville ducked behind a statue, hiding when Ron looked their way.

'I got it,' Harry nodded, 'bebiede þe álíefednesse ealdu.' His eyes flashed gold, yet he still saw a warping in Ron's shadow that meant whatever he summoned was still there.

'It didn't work,' Neville grumbled, and took out a crumpled sheet of paper. 'Try the next one, banishment.'

Harry held out his hand, licking his lips as he ran the spell through in his mind. 'Bebiede þe ácweðan ealdu.' He spoke with more force, yet it failed again.

'What do we have here, George?'

'I dunno, Fred, but I think it looks like someone's trying to curse wittle ickle Ronniekins,' Neville yelped, jumping in shock when George placed his hand on his shoulder. Fred was disappointed that when he put his hand on Harry's shoulder, the young Pendragon just looked at his hand, then the twin with a blank look. Not a hint of surprise one the kid's face.

'We're not! We're trying to fix him! I swear!' Neville raised his hands, his cheeks flushed with guilt.

' _Neville_!' Harry hissed, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

'So, did you two cause our little brother's current predicament?' George leaned towards Neville with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

'No, we did not,' Harry answered calmly, not betraying a single emotion. Fred found the two were amusing. He had heard of Pendragon, who hadn't? Between his mother taking the Potter seat, and him renouncing the use of his famous name, he was the talk of the school for a good while. Neville was also well known in the pureblood circles, he was known as the spineless wimp. Harsh, but he was always stuttering, and blushing from some unknown guilt trip.

With the two standing side by side, their green eyes looked almost the same shade, but where Harry's was calculating, and sparked with an unknown passion, Neville's were watery, and seemed foggy, as if he wasn't all there. They were just such opposites, even hair wise. At the beginning of the year Neville's hair was a dark dirty brown, but it had lightened a few shades over the months, if anything, Harry's hair became darker. And while Harry looked impassive and in control, Neville looked like he was afraid George and Fred were going to get angry at them.

Interesting, the thought sparked in Fred's mind again. 'Then you alone caused Ron's curse?' Fred questioned with a smirk, catching on to how Harry was trying to manipulate the wording. He figured the young Pendragon boy was good for Neville, not only had he pranked Ron, but he was helping Neville out of his shell.

'Yes.' Harry shrugged, not noticing the look of shock on Neville's face. Neville could not believe Harry had just confessed, but really, Harry saw no point in lying or avoiding it. The twins already knew, there was no point in playing a game of make believe, where he pretended they didn't know.

'Brilliant,' George chimed in unison with Fred. 'How'd you do it?' George asked as he focused on Harry.

'Secret, we're trying to reverse it.' Harry looked around the corner, cursing quietly when he realised he had lost sight of Ron.

'Ah, just leave it, it's not going to do him any harm. Maybe it'll teach him a thing or two.' Fred patted Harry's shoulder, and George nodded in agreement.

'Bye kids,' George ruffled Neville's hair before the twin stalked off, looking like they were up to mischief.

'Bye kids,' Neville mimicked, rolling his eyes as he fixed his hair. He had nothing against the twins, they were amusing. But they were always causing trouble and- Neville's eyes widened. 'Harry? Harry!' He panicked, and started patting down his pockets.

'What?' Harry frowned at his friend as he brushed the wrinkles out of his uniform.

'They took the paper full of counterspells!' Neville hissed, his face was flushed with nervousness. It certainly didn't help matters when he watched Harry's eyes darken before he groaned, and ran his hands through his hair roughly.

'Dammit!'

* * *

'So, what do we do?' Neville scratched the top of his head as they looked at the little cub that was tapping her way around the empty classroom.

'Well, do we want to make her a full cub, or a coat post?' Harry sighed and looked at the pile of notes they had. He pretended that Neville was talking about the cub rather than the twins that now had a stack of spells based off of the Old Religion. Sighing heavily, again, he looked at the notes they had for the cub. To him, it looked incomplete for both sections.

'We do the hardest thing, turn her back into the coat rack, then we can turn her back after we become stronger?' Neville fiddled with the parchment he had, forcing the thought of the twins out of his head. 'Did you hear any news?'

'No, there's no need to look into it.' Harry shook his head, and rubbed the top of the cub's head. 'Mom's got it figured out, she wouldn't fail something as mundane as becoming part of a court. Doesn't matter if its a royal, wizarding, or even a drug court. If Morgana wants to do something, she'll do it.'

'Drug?' Neville repeated with an incredulous look.

'I needed an example that would be highly improbable, a drug court seemed like an apt example.' Harry trailed off, his diction heightened, as it always seemed to when he was distracted.

'Apt,' Neville mocked jokingly with a small sway in his seat. His sudden movement caused the cub to focus her attention on him, and within moments she had hopped onto his lap, and was curled up. 'What if when we turn her back she loses all of her personality. She wouldn't be the same.' Neville frowned and played with her ears.

'Well.' Harry ran his hand through his hair, chewing on his bottom lip. 'There's no guarantee either way. So what do we do?'

'Rock, paper, scissors?' Neville though about the muggle game Hermione had taught them earlier in the year. They played rock, paper, scissors often. The loser got flicked by the winner. Needless to say, they came away with red, aching foreheads.

'Rock, paper, scissors, best out of four. You win she's a cub, I win she's a rack.' Neville nodded in agreement, within moments they chanted the words before they finished, Harry with paper and Neville with rock. Three rounds later the boys were staring at the cub with forlorn gazes.

'I can't believe you won.' Neville sighed and looked at the paper notes for un-transfiguration. He was sure there was an official term for it, but they weren't old enough to learn about that stuff. Plus, they were too lazy to research it, or ask Hermione. Perhaps lazy wasn't the right word, rather, they weren't interested enough in finding out.

'Me neither.' Harry sighed, and held his hand out to the cub. 'Okay, here we go, þone edhwierft.' His eyes flashed gold as the old Magic was summoned, but the cub remained sentient. 'Be gelvwirfnesse æt þætealdgecynd.' His eyes flashed again, yet nothing happened. 'What else?'

'Try the other one, revert?'

'Alright, maybe put her down?' Neville sighed, and nodded before putting the cub down onto the ground. 'Alright, þæt frumgeweorc!' Both boys deflated instantly, the cub was a coat rack once again. 'I can't believe that worked.' The two boys seemed to be on a roll, earlier that day Neville had helped Harry figure out the counter to the curse he had placed on Ron. Granted they took longer than necessary after the twins had taken all of their notes. Now, they had countered the spell they put on the coat rack to get their cub.

'I guess we are smarter than we thought, not sure if that is a good thing.' He mused before frowning at the coat rack. 'Do you want to start planning on how to turn her back properly?'

'Absolutely, so, we know áhierdan didn't work. Ágiefe séo æ didn't either. What else?' Before Neville could respond Blaise walked in humming.

'That the cub?' Blaise frowned at the coat rack before looking at the two boys.

'Not anymore.' Neville took a moment to stare at the coat rack before scrambling to get the notes together. The two of them had never officially told Blaise or Hermione that they had used the Old Magic to create their previous cub. They figured they shouldn't tell the other two until they knew that Morgana was, well, _Morgana_. Harry didn't want to imagine how Hermione would react if she thought he and, Neville, were using the Old Religion without any background or help.

'Right.' Blaise spared a few seconds to be sentimental about the cub, then started getting back on his point. 'So final exams are coming up soon enough that Hermione is getting frantic. When are you two going to tell me what that secret is that you two are always giggling about.'

'We don't giggle!' Neville huffed, flushing as he tried to recall if they had, in fact, giggled about anything.

'I concur,' Harry nodded, his eyebrows were scrunched together, and his face otherwise impassive, looking far too serious about a comment about giggling.

'Maybe not out loud, but you two do an awful lot of mental giggling.' Blaise disagreed instantly as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

'You can always tell, you two get the same goofy grin.' A familiar female voice chimed in agreement.

'Hermione!' Neville jumped in his seat from surprise, he had never even noticed her walking up.

'Alright, get in here.' Harry waved the group's other half in, shutting the door behind them. He placed his hands against the door, and said the spells that came to mind, 'learh fearnancai.' The locking spell slipped from his mouth with ease as his eyes flashed gold.

'What are you doing?' Hermione couldn't hear anything but a whisper from Harry, but she was positive that whatever he had just said was neither latin, nor english.

'Ástyntest éare,' he whispered the last spell that he hoped would prevent outside listeners from hearing anything. 'I was checking the door,' Harry answered smoothly before he took his seat again. 'Now, what I'm about to tell you is important, and you can't say a single word until I'm done.' He had decided to tell them who his mother was.

Throughout his explanations the responses he got were not what he expected. Blaise had spent the time gaping, then got rowdy, and went on with whatever roller coaster of emotion he was on. Harry didn't bother to figure out Blaise, he did, however, appreciate Hermione's reaction. Unlike Blaise she took it quietly, every once in awhile she opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. It seemed like she was instead living her surprise through Blaises reactions, and was herself thinking rationally. Overall, not as expected, at _all_. If anything he figured Hermione would go on some rant about morality, and villains because of how she was acting throughout the year.

'So, he already knew.' Blaise pointed at Neville. 'She didn't.' He pointed at Hermione next. 'And the rest of Hogwarts is in the dark. If I were a prankster this would be gold.'

Without a shred of shame Hermione snorted and shot Blaise a look of disbelief. ' _T_ _hat's_ what you're taking from this? It's a good joke? The most important thing to take from it is not that, it's that we have all the foundations to reverse the idiocy of the 9th century! Did you know that King Uther was the cause for the banishment of the Old Religion? A muggle king started killing all the people who practised it, then the wizards of that time tried to come up with loopholes and ways to work without the telltale signs. Such as the gold flashing of eyes.'

'Really? It was all because of some muggle?' Blaise looked personally offended that the reason that he couldn't practice the same magic as Merlin was because of a non-magical king.

'Yes!' She nodded stiffly, already in lesson mode. 'The strong wizards were ultimately destroyed, or went into hiding, all that were left were those with little potential for the Old Religion and it's magic. But, they found they could channel their magic through wands and accomplish feats much like their stronger folk. However, instead of fashioning their magic through Old English, they formatted it in Latin, the prevalent language of the aristocracy.'

'You read the book.' Harry smiled at Hermione, looking extremely proud of her. He knew she would read it, he knew that she would use the information to derive her own ideas, and it was always a nice feeling when your friends ideals lined up with your own.

'Of course.'

'What I don't get is why we didn't start up with the Old Religion again,' Blaise said with a frown.

'By the time people considered using the Old Magic again, their beliefs had been that the Old Religion was evil and dark magic, but that was King Uther's legacy speaking. Those were his ideals. Not only that, but a lot of the information had been lost. So, with the impression that the Old Magic would taint them, and was evil, they continued to ignore it, and ban it until they lost the vast majority of the relics and information of the Old Religion.' Hermione continued speaking, looking excited to tell her friends what she knew.

'Uther was also the cause of the wizarding government.' Harry shifted in his seat, running his hand through his black hair with a scowl. He truly hated Uther for what he did to his mother and the magical folk. 'After he butchered hundreds of people, the wizards realised that they needed to get together. So, they created their own government, separating themselves from the monarchy, and King Uther.'

'One King caused all of this?' Neville scoffed in disbelief that one man could cause such a change in the past, one that formed the very magic they used, and the government they followed.

'King Uther was King Arthur's father.' Harry stuffed his hands in his pocket's, his nose wrinkling in distaste. His mother had told him not to hate Arthur, she imagined she had forgiven him. But everything Harry heard about the legendary king left a bad taste in his mouth.

'I see.' Blaise nodded. 'What are we doing this summer?'

'We are getting together.' Hermione stated matter of factly.

'My house is open.' Blaise stuffed his hands in his pockets.

'Mine is as well.' Hermione nodded before looking at Harry expectantly.

'My house is open as well.' Harry smiled, amused that Hermione was trying to subtly hint to him that she wanted to go over. Hearing that he had a huge library was a big deal for her, but the fact that it was Morgana's library made it something she absolutely had to see.

'I guess mine is.' Neville frowned, and scratched the back of his head. 'But my Grandmother is strict, so we would have to stay outside or something.'

'I would love to see your greenhouse.' Hermione beamed at him, causing the young Longbottom heir to blush.

'Thanks.' The tips of his shoes scuffed against the floor underneath him as he swung his legs. The quartet grinned at each other, already imagining how amazing their summers would be.

'Did I mention that I cursed Ron using the Old Magic? I reversed it, but the twins have our notes.' Harry leaned back in his seat looking relaxed. Of course, Hermione didn't, as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth a look of horror flashed across her face. Unlike Hermione, Neville instead flushed in humiliation and was pouting at the ground and Blaise looked like he couldn't decide whether to sigh out of exasperation of laugh out of amusement. 'Right, sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have said that,' he mumbled to himself before laughing softly. At the moment, he felt he had made the best choices for friends.


	10. Chapter 10

Against their better judgement Blaise, Hermione, Neville, and Harry entered the train at the end of the school year lacking a set of notes that were covered in Old English. Harry knew he was going to be severely grounded, but no matter what he did he could not get them back. He tried, he tried extremely hard. He used the invisibility cloak, he used a summoning spell, he tried Morgana-forbidden spells, and he had tried taking advantage of the minds of his friends. But sadly, no matter how smart he, and his friends were, they couldn't match the tactician minds of the twins. They were like some sort of war gods, they anticipated every single move the quartet tried to make.

'So, what do we do know?' Blaise crossed his arms, looking at the ceiling of the compartment with a sour expression. If the quartet were meant to be sorted into capabilities, it was clear that Blaise was good at gathering information, and stealing. He was essentially their informant, though really he fit the role of right hand man better. Either way, he was less than pleased that some kids (though the twins were older than him, he still called them kids) had beaten him at what he considered himself the best at.

'Now, we hope we don't get in trouble.' Harry tapped his fingers against the window sill. 'Or, we lure them into our compartment and question them.'

'I say we lure them in.' Neville nodded, already starting to think of ways they could get the twins into the compartment.

'Right, that won't be too hard.' Blaise nodded, snapping his fingers as a thought occurred to him. 'How do you trick, tricksters into a trap.'

'We need a good hook.' Neville rubbed his hands together, growing into a devious state because of Blaise's constant corruption throughout the year.

'Like what? It's not like you can corner them then force them into the compartment.,' Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. Within seconds Blaise, and Neville stood up, prepared to do exactly that.

'Sit down,' Harry rolled his eyes before fixing an annoyed glare on the duo. 'Look, everything we have done has failed. Is this because the twins are truly better than us? Because we really did not figure out a good enough plan? Or was it simply meant to happen?' Unlike Dumbledore who spoke of the fates with a passing commitment, not truly caring for such things, Harry believed that some things were meant to happen. He firmly believed that the Old Religion worked throughout their lives, twisting, and changing things they did, to suit what has best. It worked for balance, and perhaps, the twins needed the papers to support such balance.

'Like karma? You cursed Ron, so now you're going to sent to Azkaban for dark magic?' Harry's eyebrows shot up as he looked at Hermione. He wasn't expecting her to use an example as serious as that, but he supposed that was her way of hinting that she disagreed with his actions, without actually scolding him.

'No, like balance. Maybe, it was simply meant to happen. We've tried all we could. We can't just kidnap them, or sneak into their house, and steal the plan in the middle of summer break.'

'True.' Neville nodded his head in agreement, before pulling out his book, Druid's Apothecary. When he opened the page the a small bunch of notes slipped out, as soon as he saw them his face twisted in utmost confusion.

'Neville!' Blaise grabbed the notes, quickly identifying them as the ones they were looking for. 'Really?'

'B-but, I.' Neville frowned, staring at the notes with a confused expression. He couldn't deny that the book was in his bag while they were in the hallway, but he could have sworn he was holding the notes, they couldn't have just fallen into his book perfectly folded.

'Strange.' Hermione took the papers, scrutinizing them. 'Perhaps we got lucky.'

'I don't think we did.' Harry ran his hand through his hair, looking at the papers just as suspiciously as Hermione, the whole situation just didn't make sense. Of course, they were unaware that the twins were in their own compartment looking at perfect copies of both Neville's forbidden book, and the notes for reversing the curse cast upon their younger brother. After all, what good pranksters ignore a chance to look into forbidden literature, or crafty curses? Certainly not the Weasley twins.

* * *

When the quartet first got together during the summer it was of little surprise that it was both at Harry's house, and was fueled by Hermione's need to meet both Morgana officially, and see Morgana's library. So when Harry opened the door to his house, revealing his three friends, he was not surprised when Hermione took of her shoes with a flustered excitement before introducing herself to his mother. When Morgana had picked Harry up after first year, she had made sure she would not encounter his friends. This was important for her because she knew that they most likely would make some kind of eye-catching reaction when they saw her for the first time. By the first time really meant the first time seeing her when they knew her as an ancient and powerful witch that was temporarily Queen of Camelot.

'Mrs. Pendragon! It's nice to see you again. I can't believe that you're _the_ Morgana Pendragon. That's amazing, you're legendary.' Hermione gushed.

'Thank you.' Morgana smiled softly at Hermione, before leading her to the living room where all of her books were on display. She laughed with quiet amusement as she watched the young pre-teen cast all of her attention upon the books as opposed to her friends, and the so called Queen-of-Evil herself.

'My lady.' Blaise took the moment to bow to Morgana, casting a sly grin at her.

'Mr. Zabini,' her voice dropped as she watched him flash her a look of keen pleasure. There was, after all, nothing like meeting the fabled Ravenclaw that was in a relationship (however twisted) with the most famous member of Slytherin, Merlin.

'Auntie,' Neville said as he closed the door behind him, making sure that all of the shoes were properly put away before he followed the rest of his friends to the living room.

'Ah, Neville.' Morgana smiled at him, watching as he started conversing with his friends who were watching Hermione read every title of the books on Morgana's shelf with humour.

'Look at all of them.' Morgana's eyes drifted to the side of the room, where the unseen Lily Potter was leaning against the wall, watching the kids talk with a happy smile on her face. 'I never imagined that he would make such good friends. He even managed to bring in a Zabini, that's incredible.'

'Indeed,' Morgana responded dryly as she made her way to the spot beside her invisible friend. She had to agree that Harry had made remarkable choices for friends, much better than she had thought he would. Not because she didn't have enough faith in him, but rather because he was a child, and children were prone to mistakes. They tended to not think about the future, or the consequences of their actions. Not that Harry did focus on such things, but from the friends he had, one could pretend he did.

'Have I ever mentioned how much you remind me of Severus?' Lily titled her head as she looked at Morgana. Morgana did, in fact, have her moments where she acted remarkably like the Potions Master. Of course, most intelligent people with both dry wit, and sarcastic tendencies tended to act like the Potions Master at some point of their life.

'No, but then, it was never needed.' Morgana responded with a soft whisper as she watched Blaise tease Hermione, making the bookworm flush, and glare at him before snapping back with a dry retort. 'This will never work,' she mused with a smile. 'Even numbers are not lucky, they often cause chaos and instability.' Usually such negative comments were met with frowns, but her smile truly fit, because she was expecting change. She was expecting the Old Religion to balance their group, however it was going to do so was left unknown.

'I think they will do fine.' Lily laughed, finding Morgana's ability to find the worst of every situation amusing. 'Will you teach them all?'

'I will teach whoever necessary.' Morgana put her hands in the pockets of the sweater she was wearing. 'Perhaps, the people who we are seeing, are the new priests, and priestess of the Old Religion.'

'Perhaps.' Lily nodded before a proud smile curled her lips. 'James would be so proud to see Harry now.'

'Indeed, he would be.' Morgana's eyes softened, for an instant she looked like the foil of what she had been when she first arrived in the time she was in. For every evil that Morgana had been, this Morgana was lacking, for every bit of love and pride this Morgana felt, the old Morgana was incapable of understanding. Perhaps, Merlin's curse did more for her than she wished to admit. She looked out the window as she felt her eyes water, though this whole tearing up thing drove her up the wall. She never used to be so emotionally unstable, she could almost hear Merlin's amused laughter in her head, as he said, the last thing you are is unstable. Besides, anythings better than an unbreakable emotional wall, isn't it? Before he started laughing again.

She turned on her heel before walking to the door to the basement that was in the kitchen. Opening the door she closed it behind Lily who had already started walking down the stairs. Morgana walked down the stairs, her bare feet patting against the cool wooden steps. The basement was also full of bookshelves. Except, all of the books in the basement were magic, and Old Religion related, whereas all of the ones upstairs were muggle books (with a few spatterings of inconspicuous Old Religion books. There was a large table covered in papers and writing utensils. She walked past the table, past the room that they used for potions, and into the room that she never let even Harry go into.

Closing the door behind her she stared at the crystal that she knew would never show her what she wanted to see. The dreams had started again, whether that was magic, or just the curse she was left with, she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she wasn't looking forward to the school year Harry had coming up. Like every other dark dream she had, she could see it's hazy reflection playing in the crystals. Her slender fingers reached out towards the crystal. 'If Harry's not careful, he could lose his life.'

'He'll make the right choices.' Lily placed her hand on Morgana's shoulder, phantom heat warmed her shoulder. 'I'm sure of it.' Morgana only hummed in response, captivated by the things she saw in the crystal. If only it were that easy.

* * *

Of course Morgana never told Harry a thing about her dreams for fear that they were only nightmares, she instead warned him to be extra careful. She warned him that the year was inauspicious, and that it would be in his best interest to tell her everything that happened. This was why Harry found nothing of substantial interest about his summer. They had gone to his house the most, and had visited Hermione's house, but they never made it to the Zabini, or Longbottom manor.

When the quartet had gone on the train, they found the same mundane air on the way to school, there was truly nothing of importance to recall. They had avoided everyone that was not each other, and had not been bothered by any curious souls. When the train arrived they had gone to their respective tables at Hogwarts, and had reconnected with friends. Hermione had talked with one of the Patil twins that was always civil with her, Neville had taken to talking with Dean, whereas Harry, and Blaise were once again surrounded by the politics of the Slytherin table.

'How was your summer?' Theodore adjusted the ridiculous pointy hats the students wore on the first feast back, ignoring the first years that had just entered the hall.

'It was good, how was yours?' Harry focused on Theodore, showing the Nott scion respect.

'Good.' Theodore's head seemed to tilt by the slightest degree as he took in the way Harry and Blaise were acting. It was clear from the way that Blaise was practically leaning against Harry that the two were comfortable together, and that there would be no changing of right hand men. It was a pity because he, like Draco, had been instructed to try, and become closer to the young Potter scion. Goyle, and Crabbe were not, however, instructed to try and become Harry's right hand man for the simple reason that their parents did not see the possibility of it. The two boys were raised with importance put more heavily on physical strength, as opposed to the mental ability needed to gain that sort of place in the politics that was Slytherin.

Really, if anyone were to ask Harry, that was one of the reasons that he deemed the duo not Slytherin enough. Not that Slytherins needed to be extremely smart but rather that they needed to be cunning, the two boys were lacking in that department. They even lacked in the ambition department. Really, Harry would say that they would fit better in Hufflepuff. Though he had to admit that their loyalty was connected to money and history as opposed to genuine relationships and honour.

'Harry,' Pansy simpered as she took the seat next to him. 'It's good to see you again.'

'For goodness sakes, Parkinson, get off Harry before anyone sees.' Daphne scoffed, sitting opposite from Harry. 'Now's not the time to act as if you're engaged.' Harry instantly baulked, he had always assumed that the reason Pansy was so touchy feely was because there was a chance she may be matched with any of the people in Slytherin. Apparently she had determined that Harry was the more likely candidate. Which wasn't completely wrong. Since Harry was their years representative, his mother was now in a good political position, and he was also still not confirmed as a light leader, he was a prime son in law for any family with a pureblooded daughter.

Harry smiled gratefully at Daphne who smirked back at him as Pansy set a more reasonable distance between her, and Harry. Now, instead of their thighs touching, she was a good twenty centimeters away. He would have liked another good ten centimeters of distance, but he supposed having any distance between them was a good thing. If there was one thing Harry wanted to do, it would be to make Daphne his female supporter, rather than Pansy. And although he had threatened Pansy that he would do just that, he wasn't quite sure how he would go about that. His left and right hands, female and male respectively, were not officially voted into any position. It was rather a position of trust and respect, they were essentially chosen by the representative to represent their respective genders positions, as well as keep him in line.

'Oh look, it's Looney Lovegood,' Pansy sneered as she clutched onto Harry's arm. With a roll of his eyes, Harry shook her off as he watched a blonde girl walk up to the hat. She walked weightlessly, her blonde hair seemed to swing behind her like the elegant shawl of a princess that was being ruffled by a gentle wind. Her very aura was like a song to Harry, it seemed to hum with serenity, she didn't seem looney to him at all.

'Why do you call her that?' Harry questioned, watching as she put the hat upon her head, smiling as if she were sharing a private joke. Which, he knew that were very likely. The hat had an interesting sense of humour, and was prone to joking.

'She's _so_ weird.' Millicent scoffed, 'she believes in imaginary creatures. Her father writes the most ridiculous magazine you have ever seen, and she follows right in his footsteps. It's like she's not all there.'

'She doesn't seem that bad to me,' Blaise mused just as the hat declared Ravenclaw for the absentminded blonde.

'That's because you haven't had the _joy_ of meeting her.' Milicent, as Harry had been quick to notice, tended to put a lot of emphasis on at least one word every sentence. It was quite annoying, actually, because it meant that no matter what she said there was always a double meaning. And while Harry could interpret what she was saying, he'd rather not have to waste that effort every single time she opened her mouth.

'If you're trying to charm your way onto his left, you're not doing it properly.' Tracey Davis' eyes were glittering with silent laughter as she took in the way all of the girls seemed to be trying to fighting for Harry's good side. Whereas the boys were aimlessly looking to replace Blaise, the girls had two things to fight for. They knew that Pansy was only one misendeavor away from being replaced, they didn't even know why Harry had been so lenient with her so far, and they were well aware that there were not that many years away from marriage contracts. If they wanted a higher chance of having the Potter wealth, they had to get in his good books now. Of course, neither Harry, nor his mother were looking for marriage contacts, but they didn't know that.

'I've missed this,' Draco mused, looking thoroughly unamused despite the sentimental connotation his words may have taken.

'I haven't,' Blaise whispered into Harry's ear. Harry's lips curled into an amused smile as he ignored the rest of the sorting. He didn't know any of the first years, and he wasn't looking for any more connections, so he didn't deem it worth his ever so valuable time. The only reason why his attention had be drawn to Luna in the first place was because of the comment Pansy made.

'Do you think Hermione will try and become friends with her?'

'Nope.' Blaise laughed, shaking his head. From what he heard about the girl, she was just detached enough from reality that she would drive their resident bookworm mad.

'I didn't think so either.' Harry's lips quirked into a smirk as he started putting the newly appeared food on his plate. Like the previous year he had completely ignored the headmaster's speech. If Harry had single-handedly saved the stone from the previous year, and not have given the Malfoy family the idea that he may still end up to be a dark wizard, then his mind would be consumed with thoughts of a certain house elf that had visited him. However, since he had done no such thing to encourage Dobby the house elf that he was truly the wizarding worlds saviour, he had no such visitor. So his mind was thoroughly occupied by aggravation with the way the girl's were acting, and what he would choose to eat. 'Who's he?' Harry instantly baulked as he finally noticed their new DADA.

'Don't-' Blaise was cut off by a squealing Millicent. He shot the young girl a glare, effectively shutting her up. 'Didn't you look at your Defense Against the Dark Arts books?'

'No, mother refused to buy them,' Harry shrugged, not feeling particularly chagrined. They had gone to Diagon Alley on a quiet weekend, and she had taken one look at the books before she bought him a book on dark curses instead.

'Lucky.' Blaise seemed to wilt in despair, if only his mother had said the same thing. 'He's Professor Lockhart.'

'Oh, him,' Harry said dispassionately, he had heard of the man before, he just hadn't realised that's what he looked like. Honestly, from the stories he was hearing, he was hoping for a cool Indiana Jones like teacher. Not the man at the head table. That _thing_ had a mound of fluffy blonde hair, that he had no doubt most girls wished their hair looked even mildly like. Even from where he was he couldn't see a single hair out of place. The thing had what might be taken as a suave smile, but looked horrible to him. He swore the things teeth even sparkled.

'I know,' Blaise scoffed, rolling his eyes. He looked annoyed enough for the two of them.

'Not even a whip,' Harry mused silently, looking like he was brooding as opposed to coolly accepting his fate. Blaise didn't spare a comment to his friend, mostly because he had no idea where the comment came from, but also because he was brooding as well.

* * *

'Right, so, any idea what we're doing today?' Harry walked to his spot on the line between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, as per usual. Likewise, Blaise took his right, and Hermione, on the Ravenclaw side, took his left.

'I suspect we're going to learn,' Daphne stepped into the spot directly opposite Harry, taking the spot of the female support, purposefully kicking Pansy out.

'Really, Miss Greengrass,' Blaise's words flowed smoothly, laden with sarcasm, 'we've come to a class to learn?' Daphne's fine lips twisted as she shot him a look.

'Well, Mr. Zabini, if that is such a surprise for you, then perhaps you should pay more attention.' Their teacher shot him a wry smile, that looked more kindly when her appearance was taken into account. Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff was almost incapable of looking threatening in most Slytherins eyes. 'Now, everyone has their gloves and earmuffs?' When she saw the students nodding she instantly set into explaining what they were about to do. When the students were finally allowed to get to work on their own, Harry put on his earmuffs and pulled out the mandrake.

His eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked at the screaming plant. It's small warped face was bunched up, it's small mouth wide open. As he stared, all that went through his mind was the curse his mother had told him about. He could almost see the plant covered in the thick black tar, he could imagine it hanging under Uther's bed, it's screams unheard by the muggle king.

Blaise nudged him with his elbow then looked down at the pot. With a small nod Harry placed it into the new pot with the same gentleness he reserved for origami. He covered the mandrake with dirt as his thoughts drifted from dark curses to an innocent paper craft. His mother was all about the use of mundane tasks to encourage good traits or mindsets, and origami, strangely enough, had been one. She was under the impression that working with paper would help him to acquire nimbleness, and a light touch. She hadn't been wrong, but it also wasn't something he bragged about. Sometimes he questioned his mother's sanity when she presented him with growth activities like that. Especially because she called them growth activities. With a sigh and a final look at the mandrake, he pushed all thoughts of sanity, curses, and origami from his mind so he could listen to Blaise and Hermione talk.

* * *

It was with dark expressions that Harry and Blaise walked into DADA. They had heard the rumours about their horrible teacher, and had heard more than enough about the man during herbology with Hermione. But it was worse than they had expected. Not only was their teacher handing out autographs, but all of the girls, and some of the guys were fawning over him like alcoholics to Dionysus.

'I cant believe this,' Blaise scoffed, taking the seat farthest from their teacher. After sending his friend a dark glare for doing what he wanted, Harry took the seat next to him.

'Does he have any real credentials?' Harry's green eyes were narrowed as he stared down the fop of a teacher they had.

'I doubt it, Dumbledore is apparently getting _desperate_ ,' Harry scoffed as he watched his teacher announce that he was handing out a test.

'Why can't your mother teach this class instead?' Harry stared Blaise down. Not because he was wrong, but rather because Blaise had given him an unattainable standard of hope. If only she could have been, but it could never happen.

Harry felt his chest tighten as Lockhart stopped at his desk, flashing Harry a bright smile. 'Why, Harry! I didn't see you at my book signing! I almost thought you had decided to go to another school this year! I'm glad you're here, I understand why you didn't show up, but really, you didn't have to go through all of the trouble,' Harry raised his eyebrows, not quite sure what his teacher was going on about.

'Pardon?'

'We may both be celebrities, my dear boy, but you must never worry that you will outshine me.' Lockhart tossed his head, before smiling. 'After all, I have won _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award five years in a row. One day, maybe we could see each other on equal piers of status in the public's eyes, but you're still a budding star! You have quite some time to go.'

'Sir?' Harry's eyebrows were pitched as high as they could, and his lips were curled in a dubious grimace that looked remarkably like his mothers.

'Don't worry, I'll get you some publicity yet!' Lockhart tossed him another trillion watt smile before walking away.

'What was, _that._ ' Blaise looked completely repulsed as he stared after the teacher who had just taken to boasting about his award to a nearby student who had heard, and was stupid enough to comment on it.

'That was the beginning of the end,' Harry uttered, falling into the typical Pendragon dramatics as he stared down at his test that was full of questions focused solely on their teacher. It had only gotten worse after their teacher collected all of their work. Lockhart had flipped through the _54 question_ test, chuckling as he read the answers.

'Tut-tut,' he purred, 'hardly any of you remembered my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples, though, I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!' Harry could feel his head spin with cynical disbelief as his teacher winked at the class. Harry could hear Blaise's laughter to his left, but his mind didn't comprehend much more than that. 'Now, to business!' He pulled out a cage that was covered with a blanket.

'No,' Blaise breathed out in disbelief as their teacher assured them no harm would befall them. 'Don't tell me we have a teacher this stupid,' Harry merely scowled.

'I must ask you not to scream,' he crooned with a serious undertone in his voice, 'it might provoke them.' He lifted the cover dramatically as he called out that they were in fact cornish pixies. Harry's head snapped to the corner of the room where Theodore snorted. 'Yes?'

'I can't imagine they're very dangerous,' Theodore choked out, saying what the most of the class was thinking. Pansy who was beside him instantly started nodding, looking more enchanted by the demonic little creatures than threatened.

'Don't be so sure!' Lockhart laughed heartily, Harry tuned him out as he rubbed his temples.

'I can't believe this,' he moaned as Lockhart released them into the room. Instantly the little blue pixies darted about the room, their sharp faces were contorted into strange expressions as they chirped shrilly.

'Well, time to go.' With the ease that came with apathy, Blaise stood up and left the room. Smirking in amusement, Harry followed after him. There was no way he was going to get involved in such a strange situation. If the teacher was reckless enough to bring a storm of troublemakers into the room, he better be capable enough to round them up. He had a feeling Blaise might start skipping classes. Despite wanting to respect the rules set for him, he was feeling awfully tempted to do the same. Though he supposed he was lucky he didn't have detention with the man, who knew what Lockhart would make him do. The thought of writing responses to fan letters crossed his mind, causing him to scoff with amusement. Even he couldn't be bad enough to make his students do such silly work.

And with that, Harry continued his record of leaving the first DADA class of the year early.

 

* * *

 

Hermione watched with lips that were twisted in dissatisfaction as she saw two first year girls slip by her, giggling, and carrying a pair of shoes. With a roll of her eyes she looked back down at her book. It wasn't any of her business what they were doing. Sighing she flipped to the next page of her book, there was something weird with the first years. For the past few weeks the first years had been running around, causing mischief. But like all the years ahead of her, she was going to ignore it. That was the thing about Ravenclaw, people did bother themselves with anybody elses business. It was a pleasant change.

'Oh dear,' Hermione looked over the rim of her book. Her gaze instantly fell on Luna, one of the new first years who was seemingly floating down the steps of the dormitories. 'The nargles appear to have taken my shoes.' With a snort Hermione looked back down at her book, the girl was barmy. She believed in non existent creatures, and was unafraid to tell everyone about those strange beings. Hermione really couldn't stand it, how could someone so _illogical_ get into Ravenclaw? Luna was such a strange abnormality. 'What is it?' Luna tilted her head at Hermione, her voice thrilled with the strange dreamy tone she always had.

'Nothing, nothing at all,' Hermione lowered her book to look closer at Luna. 'Except your _nargles_ don't exist,' that was Hermione, completely lacking in decorum, and more than eager to prove that she was right. 'Unless nargles is another word for first year girls.'

'That's rather rude,' Luna chimed, 'it's not that hard to believe that there are creatures you haven't encountered yet.' Hermione stared at Luna blankly, not giving a response. 'I don't blame you for being so close-minded, its the wrackspurts, really. They just seem to be everywhere in this house.' Hermione could almost feel her eye twitching, not only did the girl have the tenacity to call her close-minded, but she was about to go crazy from the sound of blondie's voice. It was like every time Luna spoke she made candy rainbows and lollipops appear, it was disgustingly whimsical.

'Yeah, it's the wrackspurts fault,' Hermione opted to say with a snort. 'Really though, it's your dormmates that are stealing your stuff.'

'Perhaps, but don't you think it's better to assume the best of people?' Luna sighed softly as she stopped in front of Hermione's chair. 'How are people going to change if you always assume the worst of them?' Great, Hermione thought, now the girl was going to try and infect her with her twisted fantasy warped ethics.

'That only applies when they want to change.' Hermione put her bookmark into her book and set it down onto her lap. 'Those girls don't want to change, they want to harass you.'

'But, what about the nargles?' Luna frowned, her small nose scrunched up delicately and Hermione felt exasperation fill her at the sight of the innocent girl in front of her. It was like she was talking to a five year old who blamed everything on the goblins in the house. Though now that she knew of the wizarding world and the goblins real jobs within the society, she supposed she would have to give up that excuse whenever something happened.

'The nargles don't exist,' Hermione repeated before standing up, her book was clutched tightly in her hand, her fingers almost going white with force. She really didn't want to be arguing about such nonsensical things.

'I still think that's rather rude to say. I have no doubt most people would think the things you believe in are false. What would everyone say if they found out Harry knew the Old Religion? I hardly think they would believe it was true. But that doesn't mean it isn't.'

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared at Luna, how did she know? 'What?'

'I suppose that's metaphorical though, isn't it?' Luna sang with a faint dazed smile before she walked out of the common room, leaving Hermione alone.

'What?' Hermione repeated to herself, her face was scrunched up in confusion as she dropped back down onto the seat. 'That has to be a fluke, has to be...'

* * *

'She said what?' Neville leaned towards Hermione who shook her head.

'I don't know, maybe I heard her wrong.' She chewed on her lip, oblivious to the look of worry that Neville had. She had her own things to worry about.

'I don't know, I've heard some strange stuff about her.' Neville scratched his head lightly before looking down the table. 'Ginny Weasley knows Luna, we could always ask her.' Hermione followed his gaze to a small first year girl who was writing in a journal that was in her lap at the same time that she lifted pitifully small forkfuls of food into her mouth.

'She looks like she has enough things to worry about.' Hermione shook her head. She felt sorry for the girl, she was the youngest of seven kids. One of them was a bully, and the other two that were at Hogwarts were certifiable troublemakers.

'Yeah, I guess.' Neville sighed before looking at the Slytherin table where Harry and Blaise were talking with their fellow snakes. 'I always feel thankful that I'm not in Slytherin.' He would have stayed on topic, he really would have. But, if he were to be honest, he felt guilty when it came to Ginny. He tried to spend time with her so she wouldn't feel lonely, but he hung out with his friends most of the time instead. Though the last past couple of weeks she had even started pushing him away, he figured she was doing it because she was upset with him.

'Me too, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with people that are so cold.' Hermione agreed wholeheartedly, not noticing the look of disbelief that Neville shot her. Hermione still had not realised that the Ravenclaws were the coldest house there was (mostly due to their love for logic and being the smartest), and were always the quickest to leave their friends. Even the Slytherins thought they were harsh to their own kind. Then again, despite what the other houses thought, Slytherin had a solid sense of fraternity and would never dream of hurting their house the way Ravenclaw did.

'Yeah, no idea,' he said dully as he cut up his yorkshire pudding, dipping it in more gravy before he took a bit out of it. Neville still couldn't believe Hermione hadn't noticed how cold her house was. He would say it was because she was complacent, but moments like this disproved that. She was burning with the fire of justice, even if she didn't realise it. Unlike her house, she hated how Luna was being treated.

'I just don't understand why she sits and takes it then blames it on mythical creatures!' Hermione exclaimed, not able to get Luna out of her mind. 'No! Not even mythical! That implies that there is some history to it! There is no history to wrackspurts or nargles! She made them up herself.'

'Maybe they do exist.' Neville flushed at the blank look Hermione shot him. 'I mean, if anybody had told you that unicorns existed before you got the letter you would feel the same, right? Maybe they just haven't been found yet. Or maybe they just have different names.'

'I guess.' Hermione's lips were pursed making it obvious that she didn't agree. 'I just can't believe she called me close-minded!' His jaw jutted to the side as he held in a scoff, he liked Hermione, but she was kind of close-minded. Though, she had changed a lot over the time he had known her. And it wasn't like she was close-minded for no reason, she just used logic as a reference and if something didn't match, she tended to ignore it.

'Nope, don't see it, really,' he retorted sarcastically.

'Excuse me?' Hermione's eyes narrowed and he instantly flushed and started laughing nervously. 'Was that sarcasm?'

'No?' He squeaked out. 'Look, that doesn't matter. Instead shouldn't we ask why you care so much?'

'Because she's wrong.' Hermione nodded with self-satisfaction, completely pleased with her decision.

'No.' Neville rolled his eyes. 'I mean, why do you care that she isn't doing anything about her bullies? If you think about it, that's a big part of where your frustrations are coming from. You keep asking why she's blaming it on creatures instead of perpetrators. You would react the same if she said cornish pixies were doing it, not nargles.'

'I see.' Hermione chewed on her lip in thought as she thought about what he was saying. 'I don't know.'

'I think you do,' he said calmly as he dished some vegetables onto her plate. 'Let's eat, alright?'

'Fine.' Hermione sighed and started eating the vegetables. 'But don't you think-' She went silent when she saw the expression he shot her. Instead of speaking she started eating the food on her plate. She looked over the her house's table to see Luna who was sitting alone at the far end. The daydreamer looked content, despite the nasty looks she was getting. Hermione bit her tongue as she watched some of the first year girls approach her and talk to her as one of their buddies stole a quill from Luna's bag. 'That's it.'

'That's what? What's it?' Neville frowned watching as his friend got up and started walking to her table. 'Hermione? Hermion-' He went silent and frowned at her before looking to the Slytherin table to see Blaise and Harry shooting him questioning looks. He just shrugged, watching as Hermione confronted the girls. His eyebrows shot up when he saw her pick up Luna's bag and walk towards him with it. 'What are you doing?'

'Me?' Hermione questioned innocently, reclaiming her seat. 'I'm not doing anything.' He frowned at her suspiciously as a smug smirk made it's way onto her face.

'Right,' he muttered, quickly noticing Luna walking over to their table, no doubt to retrieve her bag. They should have sat at the Slytherin table for their meal, forget Blaise wanting to play politics. Then he wouldn't have to deal with this.

'May I please have my bag back?' She questioned, standing behind Hermione who hadn't turned to look at her.

'You have to sit with us through dinner if you want it back.' Hermione kept her eyes trained forwards, but Neville caught the pleased smile that flashed across her face as Luna sat down beside her. 'Neville, this is Luna, Luna, this is Neville.' Without pausing she put some food onto Luna's plate as soon as it appeared in front of her. 'I believe we were eating, weren't we?'

'Yeah, yeah, we were.' Neville slowly reached for his cup as he looked between the two girls. Hermione looked rather happy, and Luna looked like it was an everyday occurrence for people to steal her bags and make her eat with them.

'I think it's rather fascinating that the girl's had my quill. Do you think the nargles put it in their pocket?' Luna suddenly spoke up before eating some of the carrots Hermione put on her plate.

'So, Professor Lockhart is a great teacher, isn't he?' Hermione gushed, eager to both not answer Luna, and talk about their new teacher. Neville barely contained a groan and Luna blinked her wide eyes not saying anything. He had only just gotten her to shut up about the idiot too.

* * *

'I don't get it,' Harry shook his head as he leaned against the table he was sitting in. 'Why?'

'Don't ask me, it just happened,' Neville sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I don't get girls, one minute she was insulting Luna, then the next she blackmailed her into eating supper with us.'

'You know what I always say.' Blaise leaned back in his seat, doing the exact opposite of Harry.

'No, actually, I don't.' Harry raised his eyebrow at his Italian friend. To his and Neville's knowledge Blaise had never said anything really about women.

'Good, because I don't have a catchphrase for these kinds of moments. Anyways, girls aren't meant to be understood, especially one's like our favourite mudblood.'

'I don't understand why you say stuff like that.' Neville frowned at Blaise who simply shrugged. Usually Blaise only used those phrases around Harry, but lately he had been to saying them to Neville too. It was only a matter of time before he said that to Hermione, then the boys would have to explain it and Harry had no doubt that she would slap him. Or lecture him, both were likely.

'I call you my favourite blood traitor.'

'That's not any better,' Harry scoffed out a laugh as he smiled at Blaise.

'That's still not the point,' Blaise pointed his quill at Harry. 'The point is that, oh! Hermione, hi!' His voice raised up a couple of pitches as she walked up with Luna. 'You brought...her,' he dropped his quill on the table with a weak smile as Hermione sat down opposite him. Neville rolled his eyes from beside Blaise, before looking at the quill and snatching it up with the realisation that it was his.

'Hello.' Luna looked at the group with curious grey eyes.

'Hi,' Blaise cleared his throat and smiled at Luna. 'I'm Blaise, this is Harry, you're Luna, right?'

'Yes.' Luna smiled at him, but remained standing.

'You should sit down,' Hermione said, though the boys would say it was an order, as she pulled out her potions book. Luna silently sat down.

'You don't need to pretend to like me, I know you're uncomfortable.' Luna didn't look offended when she spoke, instead she said it as if it were simply a fact that didn't affect her.

'No, I'm uncomfortable when people bully you.' Hermione snapped, 'shouldn't you do your homework? I know you got an essay today in charms.' Despite sounding harsh, it was clear to the boys that she wanted to help Luna. If anything, she sounded more like a scolding older sister, which only made the boys look at each other in confusion. Since when had they gotten so close?

'I should,' Luna said softly, Harry stared at her critically. He wasn't sure if Luna was ignoring Hermione's rude tone, or if she was genuinely oblivious to it.

'Do you think she knows?' Neville lowered his voice as he whispered to Blaise.

'I really don't know,' he whispered back. 'Lovegood's always had good sense though.'

'Don't whisper when everyone can hear you,' Harry scoffed in amusement as Neville and Blaise looked at him in faint surprise, clearly not thinking they were talking that loudly.

'We weren't that loud,' Blaise rolled his eyes but slouched a little in his seat.

'It's quite alright Harry, I have no doubt Hagrid will acquire some crumple-horned snorkacks. Then we won't have to worry about all of these wrackspurts.' She smiled and her head tilted by the faintest degree, making her radish earrings dangle in her hair. Hermione blinked and pursed her lips, but kept her eyes on her book, no doubt refraining from a rude comment.

'You know, I've heard the theory that your creatures don't exist, but you're actually a seer.' Blaise lightly scratched his throat, divulging his thoughts on the group. 'They say your creatures are actually codenames for different things.'

'Really?' Luna's eyes opened wider, making Harry smirk. He had no idea it was possible for her eyes to get any wider. 'How interesting.'

'Is it true?' He leaned towards her, staring at her curiously.

'Shouldn't we talk about things that will be helpful?' Neville stepped in before Blaise started up their old argument of whether divination in their time and age was truly applicable or even true. The quartet believed in the Old Religion for divination, but most definitely they believed that such a thing in their time was iffy at best.

'Like?' Blaise sat properly in his seat again, looking faintly out of it. He certainly hadn't expected Neville to make a comment like that, perhaps he and Harry were helping him a little too much.

'If Hermione's bringing Luna because of, nargles, then shouldn't we find a way to help her get rid of the infestation?' Harry spoke out Neville's thoughts, barely pausing when he said nargles. Blaise coughed, trying to hide his laugh at how Harry sounded. The euphemisms he used made it sound as if he wanted to _dispose of_ or rather, _kill_ the first year girls, instead of scold and stop them.

'He's got a point,' Neville, unlike Blaise, refrained from reacting and instead treated his sentence in the Harry meant it to be. Making the girls desist with their behaviour towards Luna.

'Why?' Luna asked. It was a simple question, really. It was her body language that showed the true depth behind it. Her eyebrows were furrowed, just enough that her eyes gained the look of innocence and confusion. Her lips were barely pressed together, leaving a small gap for her breaths to move through, and her chin was lifted in what could only be taken as suspicion. It wasn't to say that her previous persona was gone, she was still completely herself, with the same dreamy aura, but instead another depth of her was shown. Not a cynical side, but rather, the side that was aware of the personalities of the people around her, and was aware their possible motives.

'What do you mean why?' Hermione frowned at Luna. 'You were saying you believed in the best of people. So why can't we just help?'

'You aren't most people, that comment doesn't apply to you,' Blaise choked at Luna's direct response.

'Not most people?' His voice was a couple pitches higher than normal and his lips were curled in amusement, wobbling with his effort to not laugh. There was nothing like dreadfully blunt statements to make him happy. Especially when they were said in the dreamy manner that Luna always had.

'That's an insult, not a compliment,' Neville said slowly, it should have sounded like a statement, but it sounded more like he was questioning his own interpretation. 'Right?' Instead of answering, both Blaise and Hermione shot him amused looks.

'What's she's really trying to say is that she doesn't like bullying, and that she felt obligated to help you.' Harry spoke up as he looked at the ceiling above them. His green eyes focused on the books flying over their heads to their designated shelves, as opposed to the three sets of eyes staring at him. 'Hermione feels protective over you.'

'She was supposed to admit that.' Blaise smirked and looked at Hermione who just scowled in response.

'Oh, I see,' Luna's voice was soft, and was barely heard by the others at the table. Her head tilted as she looked at Harry, 'I thought she wanted me to be with her before I told everyone about how the Bloody Baron thinks you're involved with the Old Religion.' Blaise indiscreetly sat up and Harry's eyes settled on Luna's.

'I was going to tell you guys later,' Hermione mumbled, ducking her head.

'I thought she was just making random comment.' Neville frowned and scratched the back of his head.

'The Baron has been talking about it for awhile.' Luna folded her hands in her lap, talking as serenely as she would if she were focused on the Quibbler.

'Does anyone else listen?' Neville's nose scrunched up as he spoke, he couldn't imagine anybody actually listening to the Slytherin's house ghost. In fact, the Slytherins didn't even talk to their house ghost, so he was fairly sure that other than Luna, nobody considered Harry and the Old Religion were associated with each other.

'Of course not, it's the Baron.' Blaise rolled his eyes before he rubbed the side of his forefinger against his lips in thought. 'Its not like Harry actually has anything to _do_ with the Old Religion anyways.' His calm comment that was meant to make Luna dispel such thoughts, only caused the other four to stare at him with varied expressions of disbelief, amused indifference, empathetic embarrassment, and curiosity.

'Okay.' Luna nodded her head, though it was clear to everyone that she didn't believe him and was going to let him wander in his delusion that he had effectively dissuaded her. When in fact, she was without opinion. In her mind it wasn't her business so she went no further, she only mentioned it because it was what she thought was propelling Hermione to seek her company.

So, after that night Luna simply became a part of their group. It made little sense to the had-been-quartet, and made even less to the rest of the school. When Harry wrote to his mother about the new development he was not surprised that her comment was more about being happy that they were an odd number (which was apparently good luck) as opposed to the fact that they had another friend. Though there was a comment stuffed in there about his growing nobility and how she was proud that he and his friends stood up against bullies. Really, the point that Harry got from it was that personalities really affected how friendships were formed. He didn't know how else she seemed to just meld into their group the same way her serenity seemed to flow from her countenance.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The crisp fall air pinched at Harry's nose, making it pink. His breaths came out in faint white wisps as he looked around the corner of the wall. 'Do you see him?'

Neville glanced behind them before shaking his head. 'No, I don't see him anywhere.'

'Good,' Harry instantly relaxed and stepped out from the wall he was hiding behind. 'I don't know what's wrong with him.' Since his first class with Professor Lockhart, the two had been running into each other far too much. It wasn't that Harry minded running into teachers, it was that Lockhart in particular always showered him with pointless lectures on being famous. He never even did anything to be famous.

'Are you Harry Potter?' Harry stiffened instantly upon hearing the question. Slowly he turned to face the perpetrator. The Questioner was a short boy that looked distinctly unimpressive to Harry. The boy's thick brown hair was neatly brushed, and hung around his face much like a bowl cut. His eyes were nearly the same tan shade as his hair, and were small and remarkably indistinctive, overall, he seemed lacking of any importance or character. The only mark of notice was the Gryffindor scarf that was tied tightly around his neck, and pulled so straight that the edge of it tickled his chin.

'This is Colin Creevey, he's a first year,' Neville whispered to Harry as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

'I am,' Harry said slowly, favouring the short boy with a cautious quirk of his eyebrow. 'What is it?'

'I am - I was.' Colin flushed and pulled out a blocky camera. 'I was hoping for a - could I please take a photo? So I can prove I met you? I know _all_ about you, everyone's told me. It's incredible how you survived You-Know-Who, and that he disappeared and everything. And, and,' his voice pitched up with his growing excitement, 'and that you still have the scar! It's all amazing, isn't it? I never imagined I could do all of this odd stuff until I came to Hogwarts!'

Harry remained silent, instead he stared at Colin looking befuddled.

'So, can I?' Colin asked as he held up his camera.

'What? You're giving out pictures now too?' Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of Ron's grating voice just as Neville raised a hand, as if to rub his eyes in exasperation.

'No, I am not _giving out_ photos,' Harry said as he turned his head to look at the youngest male Weasley. 'That implies that I, in fact, have photos to give out. Which I don't, instead Colin is asking if he can take a picture of me.'

'You don't want a picture of that blasted _snake_ , Colin.' Ron crossed his arms across his chest and scowled in Harry's direction.

'He is not a blasted snake.' Neville glared at Ron, taking personal offence to the Slytherin related insult that had been thrown at his friend. 'He is a Slytherin.'

'What's going on here?' Harry sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as he attempted to calm his nerves. 'Why, Harry! You're in the middle of something again! Aren't you?' Lockhart laughed heartily as he walked up to the group.

'Professor! He's giving away signed autographs!' Ron said with a vindictively pointed finger prodding in Harry's direction.

'You're saying that like it's a _crime_ ,' Harry said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, barely restraining the twitch that was starting to pull at his eye.

'Now, Harry, what have I told you?' Lockhart shook his head with a patronizing sigh. 'You are much too young to seek attention like this. If you want to build up your market you're better off writing an autobiography, like I have.' He visibly preened himself in his obnoxiously blue robes. 'If you're looking to become more famous, you need only ask me for help. Now, usually I wouldn't do this, but, I suppose if you're so eager to become well known I will help you,' he said with a heavy sigh. 'You wanted a picture, didn't you?' Lockhart smiled at Colin. 'Why not you take a picture of us and we'll both sign it.'

'Really!' Colin brightened as Ron's nose flared in obvious anger. With a flushed face, Ron stocked off, barely able to bite his tongue around the unbelievable situation.

'Why, of course! Why kind of people would we be if we refused you?' Lockhart asked as he slung his arm around a glowering Harry's shoulder.

'Thank you!' Colin was practically glowing as he took the photo, somehow oblivious to the glare Harry was shooting his camera. 'I need to get this developed!' He exclaimed, running off with his camera.

'Now, Harry, I helped you in this, but I can't always come assist you when you make your friends jealous. Remember, they are your _friends_ , you're not above them!' Lockhart flashed Harry a senseless smile before walking off with a distinctive swagger. Harry was grinding his teeth looking like he was just as likely to set fire to the school with his eyes as he was about to swear with the crudest of language at his disposal.

'You okay?' Neville cleared his throat and looked away from Harry. He could almost feel the temperature dropping.

'Sometimes, I just want to snap his neck.' Harry growled out, he was fed up with Lockhart.

'Good!' Neville jumped in shock as three Slytherin's stocked towards them, lead by Marcus Flint whose lips were curled into a violent smile. 'Do you remember our promise, Potter?'

'Promise?' Harry turned around to look at the older Slytherin. What would he have to do in order to be called Pendragon at Hogwarts?

'Your father was a good chaser! It's in your blood to be on our team!' Marcus blatantly ignored Neville, instead he focused all of his dark energy on Harry who was simply staring at him blandly.

'As a chaser?' Harry said slowly, his bad mood contributed to the patronizing tinge that was highlighting his words.

'No.' Marcus roughly grabbed Harry's shoulders, his strong fingers pressed into his skin painfully. 'Come with me, we're going to practice.' He didn't leave Harry any time to say goodbye to Neville, instead, the next thing Harry knew he was on the Quidditch field.

'You're joining the team too?' Draco questioned as he grabbed his expensive broom.

'Apparently.' Harry crossed his arms as he stared out at the pitch. 'Does this even make sense?' He really didn't feel interested in joining the team, at all.

'Potter! Get over here!' Flint yelled from the middle of the field. Harry rolled his eyes then walked up to the two other students that were surrounding Flint. 'We have one position open for beater! Whoever makes it through will join Lucian Bole.' Flint started pacing in front of the three students. 'The first test will be aim. We'll have one of you on the ground, and the other two will fly in the air. Whoever hits their fellow trainees the most wins that round. Derrick! You're first! Grab a bat!'

'Alright!' Derrick ran off with a grin as the rest of the team laughed. They were clearly excited to watch the three trainees beat each other up.

Sighing heavily Harry grabbed one of the brooms. He wasn't looking forward to being forced to participate, especially not when the other trainee who was grabbing a broom had flashed him a sadistic grin. Not even that, but the fact that they were called trainees? How were they trainees, they weren't actually on the team. Forcing the thoughts out of his mind he got on the broom and let himself float into the air.

'Potter! Are you swimming or flying!' Derrick shouted from the ground as he hefted up his bat. Harry simply fixed a glare on the older Slytherin. Flint flicked his wand and several balls started hovering in front of the teen. With a feral grin he started smacking them with his bat. The balls shot towards Harry and the other trainee that he hadn't learnt the name of. One of the balls hit the tip of Harry's broom, barely missing his fingers. The other smacked into the other boys face.

Taking a moment to close his eyes and breath deeply, Harry composed himself before deftly avoiding the incoming. His fellow trainee wasn't nearly as lucky and no doubt would be sporting quite a few bruises. When Derrick finally stopped Flint dismissed his blandly. The two switched out and Derrick situated his broom right next to Harry.

'You're still a little hatchling, Potter, why are trying for the team?'

'Flint wants me to,' Harry said as he spun out of the way of a badly aimed ball. He would describe how he got dragged to the field, but he had been told that was commonplace. Apparently Flint scouted out all of his players personally, then made them try out.

'I see.' Derrick scoffed, clearly thinking he was far better than Harry. Harry refrained from responding, opting to instead remain silent and half heartedly dodge the horribly hit balls. 'I was on the team last year, don't think you'll replace me easily.' Derrick flushed with frustration as Harry continue ignoring him while the other trainee emptied his bucket of balls with speed and horrible precision. In half the time it took Derrick to finish, Harry was already on the ground and clutching the wooden bat.

'Your job is to hit them,' Flint lectured as he crossed his arms. 'Do it.'

'Yes, sir,' Harry said as he rolled his wrist, easing the growing tension. The balls rose in the air and Harry stared at the two Slytherins that were flying in the air slowly. Taking in a deep breath he swung the ball and smirked at the loud smack that sounded as the ball hit Derrick's stomach. He wasn't sadistic or mean, but Harry couldn't deny the fact that he felt much better after emptying the bin of all it's balls and getting better hits than the taunting senior had.

'Right, McInnis, you're gone.' Flint waved his hand dismissively at the trainee that Harry had never caught the name of. Grumbling, said teen left the field. 'Now it's between Potter and Derrick.' Flint handed Derrick, the only one empty handed, a bat. 'You two will hit the air, your goal is to hit the other with a bludger.' As he spoke Bole took out a bludger and held it tightly to his chest to keep it from flying away. 'Once the two of you are in the air, he'll let it go. Do you understand?'

The duo nodded before getting on their brooms and flying into the air. 'Ready!' Bole licked his lips as his hold loosened, 'go!' The instant he let go the bludger shot in the air, Derrick was the first to react and smacked the ball towards Harry. Unlike the small balls that they were batting around earlier the Bludger was faster, heavier, and seemed to have it's own blood lust. Harry barely ducked and avoided it, the bludger whistled past him and Harry instantly flew after it. Gripping his bat tightly he hit the bludger with his bat, his arms thrumed from the weight of the bludger.

It only took that one hit for Harry to decide that he quite liked hitting the bludger. It only took one more swing for him to barely miss Derrick, and another for the bludger to hit his opponent's hand, making him drop his bat with a cry of pain. 'Potter wins!' Flint called from the ground as one of Pucey wrestled down the bludger, putting it away.

And so, Harry unwillingly joined the quidditch team.

* * *

'Potter! Practice! Now!' Harry's nose twitched as he stared at Flint who had just pushed past him.

'You better go,' Blaise said as he instantly redirected his course from their house to the library. In his eyes, there was no reason to be in the common room if Harry wasn't there to talk to. Especially since he didn't feel up to playing politics. Maybe he could find Hermione in the library.

'Yeah, I'm going.' Harry scowled and tightened his grip on his bag.

'Did your mother you need a broom?' Blaise wisely avoided mentioning Flint's use of Potter. Most of the teachers in the school had taken to calling him Pendragon, except Lockhart. So no matter who used the last name (that Harry didn't even care for) he had taken to getting frustrated.

'No, apparently Draco bought brooms for the whole team.'

'Does he realise he's only encouraging Daphne's view of him?' Blaise smirked as he imagined how said girl would spend their entire meal talking about Draco's rank depending on his father's purchases as opposed to his own ability. Supper would be fun.

'I don't think he cares.' Was Harry's snappy response.

'Have fun at practice.' Blaise walked away from Harry where their paths separated. Sighing in frustration because of his life, Harry made his way to the field. Laughing at the dejected slump of his friend's shoulders, Blaise continued to the library. When he got there he was not surprised to see Hermione and Luna. 'Hello girls,' he said as he sat down across from them.

'Blaise.' Hermione responded absent-mindedly as she continued flipping through her book.

'Hello, Blaise,' Luna said with a smile.

'Ah, now _that's_ the way to say hello. Are you paying attention, Hermione? You should be taking notes.' Blaise only smiled cheekily when Hermione looked at him from over the rim of her book. Rolling her eyes she went back to reading her novel. 'What? No homework?'

'Finished.' She responded sounding far-off as she focused on her book.

'What about you?' Blaise rested his chin on his palm as he looked at Luna.

'I'm done as well.' Luna eyes swam with amusement, her new friends were certainly entertaining.

'Good, good,' Blaise trailed off before tsking and lounging back in his chair. He didn't know why but he felt restless. It felt like something was going to _happen_ but there was no clue as to what. But they were on the cusp of something, that much was for sure. 'Where's Neville? Nev Nev, Nevilicious, Nebile.'

'You're acting weird,' Hermione said as she closed her book. 'And I don't know. I think he wanted to see Professor Sprout for something.'

'Luna.' Blaise instantly fixed his attention on the newest female of the group. 'Do you think something's going to happen?' Part of him wondered if it was Harry's fault he was acting this way. At random intervals during class Harry would say strange things, asking if something felt weird, or if he felt some kind of foreboding presence. Now, he was practically squirming in his seat with agitation and Zabini's _do not_ squirm. Great, now he was starting to sound like Draco, Blaise scowled at how his thoughts were progressing.

'Of course, it won't be long either.' She tilted head by the slightest bit. 'Why do you think something's going to happen?'

'Harry,' Blaise answered. He wasn't feeling suspicious until his friend has started bring up other ideas. 'Why do you think something's going to happen?'

'If you wait long enough something is bound to happen, and we've done quite a bit of waiting, don't you think?' Luna was the type of person that would sit in a boat for hours to look at the fish below her because she knew that there was something interesting to see. And she wasn't wrong, she had seen many things others wouldn't have noticed simply because she was patient. She had grown sensitive to the world around her because of such things, she had learnt how to notice the change in their surroundings that prefaced important occurrences. And she had, indeed, noticed that things were getting restless.

'That's true.' Blaise nodded, not asking her any further questions. And of course, because three out of five people felt nervous, they did absolutely nothing about it.

* * *

'Nobody can just force you to join a sports team,' Hermione said with a roll of her eyes as she picked up her mug of hot chocolate.

'He did.' Neville picked up his own glass. 'I was there. He just grabbed him and dragged him out onto the field.'

'Well he didn't have to try and succeed.'

'They were hitting balls at him.' Blaise answered for Harry who only sighed, not saying anything. 'Draco told me that it was actually funny to watch.'

'Of course he would,' Harry said as he put his own mug down. 'How's Luna?'

'She's good.' Hermione smiled looking, though she would deny it, proud. 'She's doing really well in her classes and her fellow first-years don't bother her very much anymore.'

'That's good.' Neville sniffed before drinking his hot chocolate. 'It's cold down here.' He muttered, the dungeons were always hopelessly cold when the four of them were hanging out in the kitchens after curfew. It always made him wish that his friends were Gryffindors so that they could all be in his common room by the fireplace. Of course the kitchen itself wasn't bad, it was the _kitchen_ after all. But the thought of prodding up several flights of stairs in the cold, whilst avoiding all authority figures was enough to make him feel cold.

'I wonder if they purposefully make it more cold at night so that students won't go around after curfew.' Hermione shuffled on her spot at the bench. 'We should learn warming spells.'

'Forbearnan.' Harry held out his palm as a ball of fire spurted to life in his hand, slowly he tilted his hand so the ball rolled off, floating suspended in the center of the table.

'That's not what I meant!' Hermione flushed as she spoke. 'I meant something _inconspicuous_ that we can do around the other students. Besides, didn't Morgana say not to use your skills at school?'

'Lay off him.' Blaise rolled his eyes, yet he still looked mildly amused at how passionate Hermione was getting. 'It's not like anyone's going to see.'

'Right.' Hermione decided not to say anything further, instead she focused her attention on Harry. 'Why's Blaise getting nervous?'

'Hm?' Harry blinked before looking at Blaise, seemingly only just recognising that his anxiety was making his friend nervous. 'Right, well, it's the magic.' His eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. 'The magic that's in the school is fluctuating and feels strange today. I told Morgana in my letter. I'm going to send it off tomorrow. I don't understand why it feels so strange, but it does. And I've been telling him so all day.'

'I bet it's nothing,' Neville said with a soft smile. 'Let's not look for trouble where we see none. I'm not saying nothing will happen-' he said as soon as everyone looked at him. 'I'm saying we should enjoy the moments of peace we have.'

'He's right.' Hermione nodded and smiled at the blushing boy beside her.

'Your mother would warn you if she thought something was happening at school, wouldn't she?' Blaise scratched his eyebrow absently.

'She would,' Harry said slowly. 'Though we have reached an agreement in terms of secrecy. She will not always tell me things until she feels I am stable enough to hear it.' Hermione and Neville both stared at him incredulously. Most people, after all, did not have those kind of agreements with their parents.

'I have the same agreement.' Blaise shrugged, deciding to ignore the looks on his friends faces. It was by no means normal for Slytherins either, rather, it seemed both Blaise and Harry had strange mothers that like covering their backs with agreements.

'Okay.' Hermione nodded slowly, wisely deciding not to question it.

'Hey, what _is_ going on between you and Luna?' Neville brought up a new subject. 'You're always hovering around her.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Hermione said as she flushed. She really didn't want to admit it, especially not to them, but because of the way she met Luna she felt protective over her. She couldn't help but get angry when people said rude things to her.

'If you're going to react like that around her then you'll have to admit that maybe those creatures she talks about are real to her.' Harry finished off his hot chocolate then licked his lips. 'If you accept her half-way like that, you might hurt her.' Harry wasn't saying that Hermione needed to _believe_ that Luna's creatures truly existed, rather what he meant was that she needed to respect that side of Luna. It was easy to ignore the ridicule if it was done by strangers, but if friends chose to ridicule each other, it hurt a whole lot more. So really, all Harry was asking, was that Hermione not do that to Luna. He was trying to keep Luna from feeling the pain of betrayal that could happen if Hermione kept being so negative towards something that was integral to Luna.

'I know,' she grumbled, though really, she didn't. Hermione had never even considered how that kind of lukewarm acceptance would hurt Luna more than the bullies. There was nothing worse than the people closest to you not accepting your mindset and way of thinking, and Hermione could hit that place if she kept helping her. Now she certainly didn't want to open her mouth and admit that she hadn't thought of that before he spoke up.

'So.' Blaise clapped his hands together. 'Harry's in a quidditch team, Hermione is a mother hen, Neville is running off having secret rendezvous with professors, and I'm just an advisor. Nothing has really changed.'

'Why are you meeting with Sprout?' Hermione asked as she looked at Neville.

'I wanted to see if I could get any seeds from her.' Neville looked into his mug, avoiding looking at his friends. Talking about his gardening was always awkward for him because the kids his age usually could care less. But he didn't mind telling his friends, they didn't look down on him because of it.

'That's good!' Hermione grinned at him and he smiled back. 'What kind of seeds?'

'I wanted some mandrake seeds.' Instantly he flushed, he wouldn't admit it to his friends but Morgana had told him about a curse she had created with a mandrake, and he was curious about it. He wouldn't _enact_ it, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious about how the plants were so versatile. They could both cure paralysis and cause insanity? That was most certainly interesting to him. 'She said no.'

'Teachers,' Blaise mumbled. The quartet instantly stiffened as they heard Mrs. Norris meowing outside the portrait. 'We should wrap up.' The other three nodded in agreement. With a wave of his hand, Harry's floating fire disappeared and the four walked up to the door as quietly as they could. They waited until they were sure Filch was gone before they sneaked out.

'See you tomorrow,' Hermione said as she waved goodbye, walking away with Neville. Harry nodded to them and Blaise said a farewell as well before the two of them started walking to their common room.

'Neville's right.' Harry spoke up after he was alone with Blaise. 'We shouldn't go expecting trouble.'

'We shouldn't ignore a clear warning either.' Was Blaise's quick response. 'But really, what is there that we could possibly prepare for? I hardly think anything is going to happen this year.' It was as if Blaise had just jinxed them because suddenly Harry could hear whispering. 'What is it?'

'I don't know, I think I hear something.' Harry looked behind him where the sound was the loudest, and suddenly he could hear word for word.

' _Come, come to me. Let me rip you, let me tear you, let me kill you._ '

'What?' Blaise asked, frowning when he saw Harry's eyebrows furrow by the slightest bit before his expression turned serious and cold.

'Come on, let's hurry.' As if a switch had been flipped, Harry suddenly became more cautious and had an analytical glint in his eyes, it looked as if he would (and could) attack anything that might appear. Without a single question Blaise listened and followed him to their common room. It would be better to not waste time and ask questions later when they were safe and in private. But that didn't mean he was going to let it go. Whatever happened seemed fairly serious.

 

* * *

 

'So, what happened last night?' Blaise asked. He had gathered the four of them together as soon as he could the next day. He wanted to find out what had happened with Harry, and he knew the other two needed to hear. He hadn't brought Luna into it in case it had to do with the Old Religion. If it was something she needed to hear, Hermione could tell her after.

Harry sighed and ducked his head for a moment, trying to try and work through what he could say. He heard a voice, fine, but he didn't know how to explain why he had reacted so violently. All he could really say was that he had a bad feeling. 'I heard a voice when Blaise and I were walking to my common room.' Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his friends. 'It was claiming that it would tear people, kill them, and eat them. I had a bad feeling.'

'Of course you did,' Neville said before scoffing. 'How could someone say that?' The short silence after his words was filled with a steady clacking sound from outside. The old classroom they had found was right by a portrait that filled it's time with attacking a practice dummy, and the sound often echoed down the halls.

'The problem is that nobody said anything,' Blaise instantly retorted with a deep frown. 'I didn't hear a thing.' He was worried, he didn't know what it meant if he couldn't hear something that Harry did. He wasn't about to think that Harry was delusional, there were many explanations in the magic world, but he couldn't think of anything.

'Then who was speaking?' Hermione asked, it was a relief to Harry that despite him being the only one that heard it, his friends believed that he truly heard those words.

'We don't know. If I had only heard that then I would be worried, yes. But I wouldn't have wanted to get out of there so badly.' Harry ran his hand through his hair. 'The problem is that the Old Religion was involved. As soon as I heard the voice, I knew that was why I was so nervous all day long.'

'So the school's in danger, _again_.' Neville slouched in his seat. It was only their second year, but Neville was getting a funny feeling that danger would become a common occurrence. But, he trusted in the teachers, it wasn't like he and his friends would have to handle the danger that may come to the school. That wasn't their responsibility.

'It wasn't really in danger last year,' Blaise denied. After all, the DMLE had gotten involved and had sent the (apparently possessed) teacher to the Department of Mysteries.

'Voldemort was in the school posing as a teacher,' Neville said with a grimace.

'What happened to him anyways?' Hermione frowned and tilted her head questioningly.

'No idea, the Department of Mysteries got involved. They don't let any information get out.' Harry shook his head, even his mother couldn't get into the DoM. 'But the problem isn't Voldemort, it's the voice. It could have been a prank, or it could be something more serious.'

'I say we let it rest until something serious happens.' Blaise nodded to himself. 'We have no proof that anything dangerous is happening yet.'

'But if we don't do something now then something serious might happen.' Neville shook his head. 'We can't risk someone getting hurt because of us.

'He's right though,' Hermione said with a grimace. 'It's not that I don't believe you, Harry.' Hermione ducked her head with an embarrassed flush. 'I do, it's just that, it could have been a prank, like you said.'

'I understand.' Harry sighed, he knew his position on the situation. He wanted to get it figured out now. It may just have been a prank but he had a bad feeling about it. 'So we're divided.' He sighed and reached into his bag, his mother told him that it would happen eventually. And it had happened before, but it was about minor things like what to eat for supper.

'What are we going to do about it?' Hermione looked between her friends with a frown. If they truly were evenly split, then they would have to compromise, and that meant that somebody would walk away less than pleased.

'I'm calling my mom. Two way mirror,' Harry said as he started digging through his bag. He always tried to keep the mirror with him just in case, though the only time he had used it before was inside the tunnel in First year after his scar started hurting. The mirror was an easy way out, going to his mother instead of discussing it further, but Morgana had seemed off earlier and that may have been why. For all he knew, his mother may have known something, however minor, and it could help them. Instantly his friends started moving around. Neville went behind him and tried to look into the mirror and Blaise trailed after him.

'Budge over,' Blaise said as he hovered over Harry's shoulder. He gripped the back of Harry's chair leaning closer, making his chin brush over the tips of Harry's soft hair.

'Why not you.' Neville's eyebrows scrunched together as he scowled at his older Italian friend. He crossed his arms and remained standing as close to behind Harry as could, trying to take over Blaise's spot of directly behind him.

'Because _I_ was actually there.' Harry remained silent as they argued, instead he stared at his mirror with flaring nostrils. He wished they would just not argue, but if one thing was obvious about this group it was that it they argued, they did it will all their effort. Even if it was something meaningless.

'Stop fighting!' Hermione yelled, instantly deciding to try and take control over the chaos of the group. If only they would listen to her, Harry thought before sighing. He would have to step in if they didn't stop.

'Stop? Sure, as soon as he moves.' Blaise shot Neville a look as he made a point to shuffle more to the middle.

'All of you, be quiet,' Harry said as he scowled into the mirror. 'We can't risk drawing attention.'

'You said you set up a perimeter.' Hermione looked at him accusingly before looking at the door of the abandoned classroom. Once again Harry had made the effort to find a secluded room, set up simple silencing spells (because he wasn't allowed to learn anything more complicated) and get them together.

'A _perimeter_ ,' Neville repeated incredulously. He looked at Blaise, apparently forgetting all previous conflict. 'When did we become part of some kind of refuge group.'

'When we sold our souls to the Mistress,' Blaise said blandly, smirking when Hermione glared at him. 'Not you, Hermione.'

'Guys.' Harry breathed out, his eyebrow was near twitching in exasperation. What Blaise thought was a funny joke only served to make Harry and Hermione feel irritated. There was no reason in their eyes to make strange jokes that might make potential listeners suspicious.

'Master,' Blaise drawled, smirking when Harry glared at him. 'Why, I can barely see your eyes behind that scruff you call hair.' The Italians eyes lit up with amusement when Harry's eyebrow actually twitched, a sign that he was fed up. Not that it could really mean much else.

'Let's just get this over with,' Harry muttered, reluctantly deciding not to jinx his friend and fellow house-mate. 'Morgana Pendragon,' at his call the surface of the mirror seemed to bubble, yet didn't show his mother's face. 'She must not be close by.' Harry stared at the screen in concentration, jolting when Blaise suddenly dropped into a seat beside Harry and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders.

'It's alright, Nev, you can stand.' Blaise smiled (though it looked far more like a smirk) at Neville who huffed and looked away from him. He should have thought of dragging a chair over first. He couldn't believe he lost in a simple test of smarts.

'Seriously,' Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. She had dragged a seat beside Harry as soon as he had brought out the mirror, yet the two boys had fought the whole time, neither following her lead. It took Blaise a whole five minutes to follow after her lead and he was acting like that made him _clever._

'Morgana Pendragon,' Harry called again, his voice was obviously desperate this time. He nearly sagged in relief when his mother's face appeared, but he didn't. Instead he smiled as sweetly as he could and said, 'mother, we have a problem.'

'Of course you do,' Morgana replied as her lips twisted, 'why else would you call me?' With a swift tug she turned on the lamp behind her so the living room had better lighting.

'Auntie.' Neville frowned and looked over Harry's shoulder to see the mirror better. 'That's not true.' She stared at him and his lip twitched before he flushed and tried to suppress a nervous grin. She was right, and he knew it. They wouldn't have used the mirror for any other reason.

'So, what has happened this time?' Morgana asked as she leaned back in her seat, her eyebrows raised imperiously as she stared at the four children.

'There's a murderer in the school!' Neville's eyes were wide as he leaned towards the mirror.

'We don't know that!' Hermione exclaimed as she stared at him in obvious shock and well placed nervousness. If he _was_ right, then, well, she didn't want to think of the situation they would be in. She really didn't. But so far, there was no proof, so there was no need to worry Harry's mother.

'We have no proof of that,' Blaise said, agreeing with Hermione. 'Nothing has happened yet.'

'Then why have you called me?' Morgana's eyes sharpened accusingly, they would not have called her for nothing. They were truly worried about something, and she trusted their discretion. She had gotten to know the other three children well enough over the holidays. They were good, dependable choices for friends. Only if Harry would work hard to treat them well, that is. Relationships were always a hard thing to keep healthy.

'I heard something last night.' Harry's eyebrows scrunched together as he debated what to say. 'The magic in the school, it didn't feel good, it was heavy. It felt distressed, then, I heard a voice. Blaise was with me but he heard nothing. But the voice, it was saying it wanted to kill.'

'Yet nothing has happened?'

'Nothing.' Harry paused, his eyebrows still askew with worry. 'Yet.'

'Then keep me updated and be careful. Focus on meditation, you all need the extra help if there is truly danger.' Morgana spoke finitely and the four children knew that their conversation was over. The mirror lost her image and Blaise, though saying nothing, gave off an air of pride. After all, Morgana had supported him and Hermione. Even if she didn't know it.

* * *

The group was split over the matter. Blaise and Hermione had relaxed and taken Morgana's instructions to heart, but Harry and Neville were both wary when walking around the school. Harry wanted to solve it as soon as possible, but there were just no leads. He had no idea where to look. Neville tried to help, but he was too busy worrying over the youngest Weasley. They had known each other growing up, and he was anxious because of she wasn't being social, she was drawing into herself.

So, overall, nothing was done or discovered.

The weather degraded as the months drifted into October, by the time the month of Hallows Eve came, rain was a constant. In fact, Harry was beginning to forget what dry even meant. The paths outside were muddy and squelched with each footstep. Each step sent flecks of mud at their uniforms so nobody got back clean. Not only that, but the rain worked to soak their bags and some students with rugged bags, ended up with soggy homework.

Since Harry was dragged into the Quidditch team, that meant he was required to do sports in that weather. While a cold spread among the teachers, dissent and weary spirits spread among the quidditch teams. Except for the quidditch captains, almost all students wished they could be in their warm and _dry_ common rooms. Just the thought of quidditch sent Harry's head pounding and made him wish that Flint was not so violent with his recruiting. It would have been nice to avoid the weather. He never liked getting wet.

With October, of course, came Halloween. When the day finally approached the quartet (plus Luna) were huddled at the Gryffindor table. It wasn't Harry or Blaise's place of choice, but it was the only option. Sitting with Luna and Hermione at the Ravenclaw table meant blatant stares and loud whispers. Sitting with Harry and Blaise at the Slytherin table meant destroying their social etiquette (with strangers, the order they sit in for status would be ruined), so that left the Gryffindor table with Neville.

'Guess what today is.' Neville said as he loaded food onto his plate.

'Halloween?' Hermione frowned at him and Blaise's eyebrows twisted into a confused expression. Both of them were wondering if he was talking about what had happened to Harry and his parent's in the past.

'I heard Nearly Headless Nick, he's my houses ghost, mumbling to himself. Apparently today is his death day.' Neville frowned and cut his beef roast into biteable pieces. 'I started talking to one of the upper years, he said that ghosts celebrate their day of death like we do birthdays.'

'I suppose that makes sense,' Harry said as he picked up some of his sweet potato casserole with his fork. His mouth was watering as he smelt the crisp brown sugar topping. He loved holiday feasts specifically for this reason. The house elves always made it for holidays. 'After all,' he said after he had eaten the food. 'They aren't going to celebrate their birthdays, they have in all technicalities been reborn.'

'What do you think they eat?' Blaise's nose scrunched up in disgust as he imagined what the ghosts could possibly do to eat.

'Ghosts let food rot as much as possible.' Luna spoke up as she surveyed the food in front of them. 'It helps them taste it.'

'Gross.' Neville looked at his food and resisted a gag as he imagined his plateful of food as moldy and rotten.

'It's a good thing ghosts don't invite humans,' Blaise said as he ate his food, relishing every fresh, not moldy, bite. 'I couldn't imagine being around the food.' After speaking he leaned forwards with a grin. 'Let's do something fun.' His words seemed so out of place that the rest of the group stared at him in confusion. What he said just didn't seem to fit the situation.

'Like what?' Instantly Hermione shot him a suspicious look.

'Something _fun_ , come on.' His nose wrinkled at the negative feeling he was getting from her. 'If you really want to know, I was thinking more along the lines of sneaking out and playing a game. There's exploding snap, I have a deck of cards, let's just do something.' Harry didn't respond, instead he continued eating his supper. Neville made a face and Hermione sighed.

'What's wrong with sitting and eating?' Hermione questioned.

'There's nothing wrong with it, I didn't mean leaving now.' He sighed and looked down at his food. Blaise wasn't upset, but that didn't mean that he was happy with the reaction. He wanted to eat supper, but he also wanted to leave early. Leaving the great hall with the crowds was always busy and annoying. Plus, he had this weird feeling that he couldn't shake.

'Luna,' Harry said, acting as if the previous conversation had never happened. 'How's class so far?'

'It's good.' Luna's lips curled into a light, calm smile. 'The essays are not nearly as interesting as some of the articles I wrote for my father, but it still keeps my attention. The students in my classes are interesting too. Their reactions are quite comical. You'd think it would stop being surprising when the teachers give us homework.' She trailed off and Harry caught her lips twist into a teasing smile. Instead of responding he grinned back at her, it was true. Most students cried out in surprise when they got homework, it really wasn't that surprising at all.

'Did anyone finish their charms essay,' Hermione asked. Unsurprisingly the word homework made her remember what was due in the next. Her eyebrows were already starting to twist in thought as Blaise scoffed out a laugh.

'Don't worry about it now, it's a feast!' Blaise motioned to the food looking (unsurprisingly) sophisticated. He looked more like a proud lord showing off his feast than a student pointing at his food. The rest of the feast passed by like that. Harry tried to ask Luna questions and each question was separated by random conversation caused by the topic. Eventually the feast ended and, to Blaise's annoyance, they left with the rest of the crowds.

As they were at the front, they were among the first to see the strange red writing. The torches on the light flickered, highlighting the words written on the wall "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware." Instantly whispers sprouted up within the crowd.

The quiet murmurs were broken by Malfoy who had, upon seeing the words, grinned and shouted, 'enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!'

'Mrs. Norris!' Was the next cry. Filch broke past the crowd and kneeled into the puddles by the wall, staring at his still cat that was hidden in the shadows. 'Who did it!' He got up faster than would be expected with his scrawny frame. 'Who killed her!? Who did it? I'll find out!' He stared into the crowd accusingly. 'It was you two! Wasn't it!' Harry froze as Filch pointed towards him.

Harry instantly could feel a confused outrage start to prick at him, the caretaker thought he did it? He had barely even seen the man before! He and his group of friends were careful to not be caught. 'Of course not,' an indignant voice called out from behind him. He turned to see the two twins standing behind him. They both had their arms folded across their chests and their heads were shaking in unison.

'Our pranks,' began one.

'Don't involve killing,' the other one finished. 'Well, Gred, I think our honour is being challenged.'

'I couldn't agree more, Forge.' The twin to the right nodded then sighed dramatically, not noticing (or ignoring) the squeaks of rage from the caretaker. Harry eyebrows furrowed as he watched them start rambling off in a strange play-like manner. But he could tell that they were genuinely offended that someone would blame them for killing a cat, that much he knew.

'How dare you!' Filch yelled, 'Mrs. Noris is dead and you two are-' Instead of finishing what he was saying his face twisted into an ugly expression. 'Detention!' He shouted the word as if by punishing them, his dear cat might come back to life.

'Now Filch, we did nothing wrong!' Forge exclaimed as he looked over at Gred. Harry took a moment to wonder about the strange names and decided that no, a parent could not be cruel enough to actually call their children that, and that yes, they were the Weasley twins. What other pair of red-headed twins would be blamed for misdoings and had such strange nicknames.

'We did not, indeed. In fact, we stayed inside the great hall-'

'Like the rest of the good kiddies!' Before the argument could escalate the Headmaster had arrived, and the teachers were escorting the children away with hushed commands to the refects.

'Fred, George,' Dumbledore spoke seriously as he broke through the crowd. 'Come with me.' Turning away he started walking to his office, reluctantly, the twins followed. But not before glaring at the caretaker who snarled back, revealing his partially rotten teeth.

'What was that?' Neville whispered, staring after the twins, keeping his eyes as far off the wall as he could.

'That was the result of our inactivity,' Harry hissed. He could feel his face flushing. He didn't care about Mrs. Norris, at all. But he knew something was wrong and he ignored it, now the situation had escalated. It could no longer be a waiting game. 'Blaise, what is the Chamber of Secrets.'

'It's a myth,' he answered slowly. 'It's supposedly a chamber that Slytherin created. I don't know a lot. Only that it had some kind of weapon, a monster that was created to kill the enemies of the heir.'

Before anymore could be said, a Slytherin prefect Gemma Farley, approached them. 'Harold,' she began dryly. She was either oblivious, or ignored the annoyed expression that flashed across Harry's face. 'There is going to a representative meeting. I'd suggest leaving now, you don't want to be late.' Without further words she walked away.

'Representative meeting?' Hermione frowned and looked at him and Blaise in confusion. 'What is that?'

'We'll tell you later,' Blaise answered sharply. 'We need to go, if they are calling together a meeting….'

'I know,' Harry said with a sigh. 'Goodnight.' Without further words he walked away, leaving his friends in the chaos to get back with their own houses. He was wondering when the representative status would come into play. He only hoped whatever the meeting was about would be worth it.

* * *

Harry was left to fend for himself when it came to finding the representative meeting. It was his luck that on the way Bole started walking in step with him after he entered the common room. 'You _are_ the representative for your year. Aren't you?' His fellow beater questioned.

'I am.' Harry nodded and watched as a small scowl pulled at the dark haired boys lips. It wasn't hard to see that the older boy was annoyed, and that his next actions would be purely out of obligation as opposed to want, but Harry was grateful for the help to come.

'Then you're going the wrong way.' Lucian Bole turned abruptly and started walking towards the fireplace.

'I can only assume that you are also a representative?' The words felt strange in Harry's mouth as he said them. The only thing he could think of why would be because that would be something his mother would say, not him. But he had no idea what he would say.

'Congratulations, Potter. You're already failing in your job as representative. You need to know everything you can about the school. Do you even know who the head boy is?' Harry ignored the growing scowl that was on the elder teens face as he shook his head. He couldn't even argue with Lucian, his mother had stressed the same thing. He had watched her spend four years networking for her position in the Wizengamot, yet he hadn't spent a single day of this year to do the same.

'The head boy is King Titus,' Lucian continued speaking, 'Titus Mitcham. The head boy is also our seventh year representative. You'll notice quite a few of us are prefects. It's that way for a reason. The representatives can find out more, and make better more balanced decisions when they are also prefects. If you want to keep your status, start kissing ass.' The older teen started walking ahead of Harry, making him have to jog to catch up with the fifth year.

He was going to ask how many people lost their status because they weren't a prefect, but he refrained from speaking. Bole had never _really_ paid attention to Harry in quidditch practice, except to spare a few comments. He could tell that the older teen just didn't think Harry was important enough to talk to. Even with all of the nonsense going around about him having potential to be the next dark lord. Bole wasted no time with opening what looked to be a random frame and entering a secret room that was situated along the fireplace.

Harry eyes wandered as he looked around the new room. Unlike the common room, the representative room was well lit with multiple torches. The result was a mix of golden light from the fires, and the green shine from the lake above them. Which, as Harry was noticing with high paranoia, the ceiling was some kind of see through material. There was a fireplace on the other side as well which served to heat the room. Harry held in a wince as he looked at the large table that was in the center of the room. It held held eight seats, three on either side, then two at the heads. Four were taken up so far, one by Bole who sat to the left of the one at the head, one to the right, by an unnamed teen, there was a girl beside Bole, and a regal looking male at the head.

'You're the second year representative, right?' The teen at the head of the table spoke up as he stood. He was sporting long green hair that was tied back in a ponytail that somehow worked and _didn't_ make him look like a total sleezeball. He looked fairly tanned and had the same regal look that most purebloods boasted, a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. 'I am Titus Mitcham, head boy, lead representative,' he trailed off as if he wanted to say more. 'Don't mind the hair, typical prank.' He grinned before crossing his arms.

'Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Pendragon.' Harry smiled back and resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair.

'Yes, I've heard. Your seat is one down from Jake,' Titus said as he pointed to the blonde haired teen who was sitting to his right. 'Jake Flinton is the sixth year representative and is, of course, a prefect.' He explained as Harry took his designated seat. Jake nodded to Harry but didn't say a word. 'The girl beside Bole, is Trupti Kdam, she's the fourth year representative. Expected to be a prefect, and from a highly respected family in India.'

'Nice to meet you, Harry,' Trupti said with a smile. Trupti was only fourteen, but anyone with a good set of eyes could tell that when she grew a little bit older, she would be one of the more attractive females at school. She had a set of light green eyes that looked wide and cute. Her black hair was neatly done in a braid, and he couldn't tell if she was wearing makeup, or if she just naturally looked good.

'Nice to meet you.' Shortly after he greeted her two boys walked in.

'Here's Terry Strickland, third year representative.' Titus continued his introductions, causing the boy he named to smile sheepishly and sit down beside Harry. Titus clicked his tongue disapprovingly when he looked at the boys tie that was hanging halfway down his chest. Instantly Terry flushed and fixed his tie, rushing to button his shirt and fix his hair as quick as possible. 'You're late.'

'The first years had yet to choose their representative, sir.' Terry cleared his throat before smiling shakily. 'They chose Bela Harper.' Instantly Jake coughed before showing the tiniest bit of a smile as he looked at the first year who sat down next to Trupti with a scowl.

'Harper, I go by Harper.' Was the dark haired boys instant retort.

'Well, Harper, we'll have to do introductions later. The meeting was supposed to start earlier.' Titus sat down and folded his hands atop the wooden table. Which, now that Harry was noticing it, looked like it came from the era Hogwarts was created. 'Now, usually first years do not come to representative meetings.' He glanced at Harper who still had a sour expression. 'However, the events that occurred today call for discretion within our ranks. If anyone is not clear what happened, Jake, please explain.'

Clearing his throat, Jake looked around the table blankly. 'Today, after the meal, Mrs. Norris was found dead outside of the great hall with the words, "the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware" written upon the walls with her blood.'

'Everyone knows that the heir mentioned is the heir of Slytherin. Which means, someone in our house has started something serious.' Titus' green eyebrows scrunched together as he leaned closer to the table. 'We don't know what the Chamber of Secrets is, precisely. So I am being clear, we do _not_ encourage killing. If death's start playing out, we'll have a delicate situation to take care of and I do not want that. Do you all hear me?'

There were comments of affirmation from everyone, but Harper and Jake. Jake seemed to not be the type for talking, and Harper just seemed to be a jerk. Titus, who seemed far more adept than the usual seventeen year old at leadership, instantly ignored Jake's silence, and instead focused on Harper's. 'Do you disagree with my assessment, Harper?'

'Why can't we leave the mudbloods and blood-traitors to die.' His comment was met with scoffs from Trupti, a smirk of approval from Bole, and silence from the rest of the room. 'That's the point of Slytherin, isn't it? We're better than them and we work to prove that to them.'

Jake released a long suffering sigh and stood as Titus smiled. Harry recognised that smile, it was the same type his mother had whenever she was talking to someone that didn't understand her. 'Jake, I will need you to replace Bela with another first year. He doesn't seem to understand the job of a Slytherin.' Nodding, Jake walked over to Harper and stood beside him. Titus called Harper by his first name in a clear manner of saying that the first-year had lost his respect. 'Bela, please follow Jake out of the room.' The first year clenched his jaw and reluctantly stood up, before leaving the room. 'Now, back to business. No doubt teachers will institute safety regulations. It is our job to ensure they are followed. Any comments?' When Trupti raised her hand, he nodded to her, letting her speak.

'I recommend we have students travel in pairs.'

'Good, Trupti.' Titus smiled proudly which caused her to flush. 'Always thinking, I appreciate that. The students must travel in groups of at least two or more. Any rules the teachers say, we must encourage. If people do not respond to our comments, tell Snape. He will take care of them. At this time it is important to support each other, we must not let our house fall into dissent. Hogwarts will no doubt blame us.' He leant back in his seat looking more like a predatory cat sprawled on its perch. It was an awfully cliche thing to think, but Harry couldn't imagine any other thing when he saw Titus sitting so self-assured.

'Anything else? No? No psychological warfare?'

'Nothing else.' Titus shook his head. 'Meeting adjourned, be ready for another. I have a feeling things are going to get worse from here. Prefects, make sure all the students are in the common room. I'll need to talk to them before the Professor comes. ' The representatives stood up and Harry followed their actions. He looked over at Titus who remained seated and watched them file out of the room with a calm smile. As soon as they exited Trupti erupted in squeals.

'King Titus is _so_ cool! He's like a comic book character.' She swooned before she leaned on Bole who scowled and shrugged her off. 'Come off it, Lucian.' She shot the bored looking fifth year an annoyed look. 'A girl can enjoy her eye-candy.' Trupti crossed her arms as she stopped to look at Harry. She flashed him a smile before walking away, sighing wistfully as she went, no doubt thinking about her King. Harry watched the members walk away with scrunched eyebrows.

That was the representative group? Seven people that either will be, or are prefects, and sit there talking about things that teachers are already taking care of? Harry sighed and looked back at the portrait. It felt more like a tea party than an important meeting to him.

'You're still here.' Titus said as he walked out of the room. The older teen was far taller than Harry, he would guess that the eldest representative was around 6 feet. He hadn't seemed so tall in the room. 'What did you think?' He crossed his arms keeping a serene smile on his face.

'Makes me wonder why we can't trust the teachers.' Harry looked at Titus who only smiled.

'Harry, do you remember what happened last year with the Troll? The first thing the teachers did was send the students to their dorms that resided in the dungeons, where the troll was said to be. If I remember correctly, your friends tried to alert the teachers. Wise decision on your part, but do you really think they believed you?'

'How do you mean?' Harry trailed off as he stared at the older prefect with confusion.

'You remember Zoe, don't you? She was the head representative last year, and head girl, of course. After you had sent your friend, she supported his comments. They were hesitant to believe him before she walked up. The teachers know about our little _organisation_ , it's not just a game we play to practice politics and leadership. We have influence in this school, and we use it to help where we see fit to.' Titus sighed lightly with a jovial smile etched on his face. 'Keep improving, and I'll invite you to my Christmas Party this year, Pendragon. I'll set you up with all the connections you'll ever need.' His face set into a smile as the students in the room went silent and looked at him.

Clearing his throat, Titus clasped his hands behind his back, a look of amusement glinting in his eyes. 'Slytherins, the representatives have communed and have decided what course of action we will take. Currently, there is not enough need to initiate a curfew. We require everyone to keep in at least pairs of two, as a safety protocol.'

'Aren't we safe? I mean, the heir of Slytherin, one of us did this, right?' The instant one of the students called that out, Titus' eyebrows raised and his jaw clenched. Whispers of affirmation to what the random student said rippled through the room.

'Let me make this clear.' His voice raised and Harry watched with interest as the air in the room seemed to flux. With amazing ease, he was completely in control of the common room. 'We are not supporting this _heir_ of Slytherin. We are trying hard enough to survive in this school without the possible death of students on our heads. I don't care what your current beliefs are, anyone who disagrees with me can talk to Professor Snape. Do you understand?' The possible murmurs of disagreement were swallowed by the students that were intimidated by the head representative. Instead, the common remained silent until Titus walked out of the room, then the students burst into quiet conversations.

'Wow.' Harry breathed out his words as he walked over to his house mates. 'That was impressive.' He said as he entered the small circle. Slytherins were all about control, there was always a student trying to find their way to the top. So for Titus to be able to have clear dominance over the rest of Slytherin and to not see any student trying to go against him, it was impressive.

'Wasn't it?' Daphne was lounging in one of the leather chairs, sending small looks to Pansy who was left standing, with no place to sit. 'Titus has always been like that, his family descended from royalty, and they have large political power in Austria. I heard that his cousin is even crown princess of wizarding Sweden.'

'Heard?' Theodore stared at her speculatively before he looked at Harry and said, 'it is not a rumour, it's true.'

'Really?' Millicent, who had recently claimed a spot on the couch stared at him with interest.

'Yes. Titus tries not to tell anyone, but I heard he's engaged to her.' Pansy sighed dreamily. 'I wish my parents could get me arranged to a prince.' Harry frowned and tried not to look uncomfortable with what they were talking about. He would personally prefer to not be arranged with someone. Though if his mother asked him to, he would not deny her. He had no right to, after all, she had done so much for him. It wouldn't be right.

'You're not quality enough to get put in that position.' Daphne retorted, rolling her eyes.

'What do you mean I'm not quality enough, huh?' Pansy demanded as she stiffened and glared at her year-mate.

'Not again.' Theodore muttered, raising a hand to his face.

'Okay. Well, this looks like fun but I gotta go. I don't know about you guys, but I have homework to do….' Blaise stood up then looked at Harry. Harry stared at his friend curiously, trying to decipher what he was telling him.

'Essay to do.' Harry agreed with him verbally then stood up and started walking to his room. He wasn't surprised when Blaise slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him against his side as they walked.

'So, how was it?' Blaise whispered as they came up to their dorm room.

'It was just like you would imagine a private meeting would be like.' Was Harry's cheeky response. Blaise laughed as they walked into the room. He wasn't surprised that was Harry's response. No doubt he wanted to wait till everyone was together. If it was anyone else about to talk about the Slytherin life, Blaise would get upset and question them. But it was Harry, and he wasn't going to tell anyone, he was going to tell the group.

'Alright, I'll wait.' Harry shot Blaise an appreciative look as he sat down on his bed.

'So, what did you want to talk about?' At Harry's question Blaise jumped onto Harry's bed and closed the curtains. Obviously it was going to be about something serious.

 

 

 


End file.
